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leascorner · 3 months

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b.b. | With child

Summary: He was so absorbed by his own created misery; he hadn’t actually thought about what you could be thinking. How hard was it for you to congratulate all of your friends on their pregnancy, to watch over all of his nieces and nephews? It was all within easy reach and never really yours.

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x f!reader

Warnings: angst ('cause I can't write anything else), alluding to sex (no description whatsoever), discussions around pregnancy, pregnancy, mention of alcohol.

Words Count: 2.1k

Author's Notes: Had this in the work for the longest time. I was actually thinking to publish it for his season (#4 I hope!). But we got new stills of Season 3 and it's nearly Valentine's Day so... Enjoy!

“Are you-” you asked when you noticed your sister-in-law had let her glass of wine and her plate untouched.

Your words stayed lost on your tongue, yet Daphne, sat in front of Benedict and next to you, knew exactly what you were about and nodded slightly, tears in her eyes. You let out a small cry of excitement and leant in to hug her. While you wore the most delighted expression, Benedict’s heart sunk a little at the news.

His sister was with child. Again. She was the second women of his family to be expecting this year, while he had yet an exciting news to share himself.

You both had wed a little over than a year and a half ago now and were yet to be blessed with a child. You were doing your best, of course, but none your efforts had been fruitful so far. Benedict did not mind; he had waited his whole life to meet you, he definitely could wait a little bit longer.

He did not mind, or so he thought…

Tonight, he thought life was particularly unfair to him. Every pregnancy announcement was only nourishing this harrowing feeling in his chest. All he could feel was his siblings’ bliss and it made him sick to the stomach. Yes, he was sick with jealousy - and ultimately selfish. He just couldn’t wait to feel your belly growing, to hold your children, to watch them playing around with their cousins, for them to grow older and become adults themselves. Just this simple thought made his very own heart felt extremely heavy.

Politely and quietly, he raised his glass wishing his sister a healthy pregnancy, before drinking away his sorrow.

The ride home that night was particularly quiet.

Silence had never been a thing between the two of you. Benedict was usually the most talkative, telling you about his days, about whatever painting he was going to paint, about that book he had been reading. You would listen, looking back at him with your big bright eyes and a soft smile onto your lips. Other times, he would watch you pacing back and forth in his study while passionately debating about politics. He would be drawing imaginary circles on your soft skin as you were lying in bed, you telling him about another one of your days chaperoning one of his sisters. He would listen to your laugh at one of his jokes. Even your fights would be followed by soft apologies, quiet words, whimpers, and love.

On the contrary, that night, the air was thick with something he couldn’t quite describe, and the coach was wrapped up in dark clouds, a genuine storm in the awakening. Sat on the opposite side, you were looking through the window, your face only light up by the few shines of the full moon. Benedict was so focused on his own thought that he didn’t realize you hadn’t had a word for the rest of the night.

He was so absorbed by his own created misery; he hadn’t actually thought about what you could be thinking. How hard was it for you to congratulate all of your friends on their pregnancy, to watch over all of his nieces and nephews? It was all within easy reach and never really yours. It only made him angrier at the entire world. Why couldn’t they let you live this as well?

He would have liked to discuss this with you - his regrets, his hope - but he was too afraid you would realize what a failure he was. How disappointed with him you were. How you would hate him for not being able to offer you this. So, he sat back in his seat and watched out of his own window.

When the coach stopped in front of your residence, Benedict got out first, offering his hand to help you getting down the small step like he always did. You smiled at him, thanking him politely, and let go of his hand as soon as your two feet were on the ground. It didn’t mean anything, he tried to reassure himself, you needed both of your hands to grab the tissue of your dress to prevent the hem from getting wet and dirty. Yet, he couldn’t help the sharp pain in his chest.

Silently, he followed you inside, hat in his hands, jaw locked. You were welcomed as usual by your housemaid, who got both of your coats and stayed there, in the uncomfortable silence, arms full, waiting for one of you to dismiss her. As you took off your gloves and didn’t dare look at Benedict, he nodded sharply to let her know she could go and watched her somehow disappear in an instant.

Suddenly, it was only the two of you again and it was all too much for him. He couldn’t breathe properly; his chest being crushed by the invisible weight of his sorrow. He couldn’t bare staying with you one more second. He needed to get out of here.

“Good night,” he said firmly, before walking to his study.

Would he have looked back he would have seen you watching him disappear in the corridor. You, all alone in the middle of the hall, arms dangling. He would have seen the frown on your face and the hurt in your eyes. Would he have looked back he would have run back to your side. Instead, he did none of that. He continued marching, head up high, trying to escape his own misery.

You sighed before turning in the opposite direction and to your shared bedroom.

Benedict went to bed less than an hour after you.

He had been haunted by guilt as soon as he had reached his study, sadness evaporating once he had stepped inside the room. Instead of turning back and chasing after you, he had tried to put his head in order. He then had tried painting whatever he was feeling, but he could only stay in front of his white canvas, terrified of laying his brush on the cotton. He had tried writing it, but he couldn’t concentrate enough; his thoughts always drifting to you, alone in your bedroom. He had then settled on having a drink to wait long enough for you to fall asleep before he could go to bed - his other option would have been to sleep in his study if he got too drunk, which he did not.

He had thought long about the whole situation. It wasn’t like you were not trying. Sometimes, even with doing the right things, it didn’t happen. He would need to accept this. And he couldn’t continue being a terrible husband. It wasn’t your fault; it wasn’t anybody’s fault actually. What he knew more than anything though was that he loved you. Whatever would happen, he could not afford to lose you.

He had decided he would come clean tomorrow, but for now, he only wanted to sleep with you by his side.

In the dark of your room, Benedict undressed and lied besides you as silently as possible.

All he could hear was your uneven breathing; whatever dream you were having did not seem to be pleasant. He reached out to your arm, hoping that you could feel his presence through his touch and know he would always be there for you.

It wasn’t until your body was rocked by a hiccup that he understood that you were not having a bad dream, you were crying.

“Y/N?” he asked, lying on his side to face your back.

“I am so sorry,” your voice was only a whisper.

He gently made you roll on your side. Even in the dark, his right hand was able to find your face and his thumb to rub the tears away. Before he could ask what was wrong, you spoke:

“I am so-” You chocked on – yet – another sob and it took you a couple of seconds to even out your breathing so you could speak properly: “So sorry- for not being able to get you- get you what you ever wanted.”

“My love,” he sighed, grabbing the back of your neck to bring you closer. Instinctively, you hide your face in his chest, and he started stroking your hair to try and calm you. “My love, do not ever feel guilty on this.”

“I have tried every tea, every method that is supposed to help,” you cried some more.

It broke his heart to realize the burden on your heart - of course, if he was feeling it, you would have too. He finally understood how selfish he had been, how centred on his own pain he was and so oblivious to yours. It had never been a subject between the two of you, but it was slowly crushing you both.

“My love, this is not your fault.”

“You don’t see the pity in their eyes. You don’t hear them whisper.” You sniffled against his chest, arms wrapped around his waist. “We are even blessed Lady Whistletown has not written about us.” He heard the frustration in your voice and the ton of it made him understand how you had tried to suppress the guilt but failed. It pained him that out of all of this, it was you who were the one being charged guilty by everyone - you included. As if you couldn’t imagine it being his own fault. As if you couldn’t imagine it being anyone’s fault but yours.

“Perhaps, I-” he stopped, running a hand through his hair out of frustration. “I drink loads of Colin’s stupid tea; I paint with all sorts of chemicals substance. Perhaps, I can’t-”

“Ben, of course, no!”

“Perhaps we won’t ever-” he confessed, but he couldn’t even say it out loud. It was all too much.

You moved against him, and he felt both of your hands grabbing his face, your forehead resting again his. He felt your hot breath against his skin, and he hugged you tighter, crushing your bones, making sure you were close.

He had you, he kept repeating himself. It was all that mattered. Of course, it was a dear wish of his to see mini versions of yourselves running around, but not at all costs. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice what you both had, right here, right now.

“We are both healthy, it is more than all I could ever wish for.”

“Will this ever be enough for you, though?” you asked so quietly he nearly did not hear you.

Benedict frowned. Was it really what you thought? That he would leave you? That your own self was not enough for him? He had been an even more terrible husband he had thought to lead you thinking this. He had failed you on so many levels.

“I was so absorbed by my own desire of having my own family,” he whispered back like he was telling you a secret, “I never asked if you also desire to have children of your own.”

“Ben, of course, I want your children!”

Benedict wanted to express how grateful he was to have you in his life, but no words came to his mind at that moment. He only reached out to your lips, trying to express how much he loved you.

If he could not tell you, he could still show you…

Hours later, while you were lying in bed, your head on Benedict’s chest, his left hand drawing invisible love words on your back and the other holding you close, he thought that there was nothing else he would like to do than stay with you, like this, forever.

“We should just take some time away from here.”

“What do you mean? The season only began-”

“To hell with worldliness. Some time away, just the two of us.” The sun was slowly peeking through the blinds, its yellow light was painting on your naked skin a glowy spectrum. “I heard South of France is particularly beautiful, this time of the year.”

Your chin on his chest, you looked back at him, eyes bright. He was looking at you the same way you had catch him do a million time: a soft smile on his lips, his eyes filled of this spark, shinning only for you. You didn’t care how beautiful France would be, he was the most beautiful view you had ever laid eyes on.

His hand brushed some hair out of your face, and you grabbed it to kiss his knuckles.

“France, it is then.”

Little did you know, you would be coming back home a few months later, bearing your own little miracle.

One of the many to come.

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x fem!reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x female reader #lea's writing #benedict bridgerton fanfiction

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secretlovezz · 30 days

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can you write anything with bau! reader x spencer, who are expecting a baby🥺 i love dad spencer sm🫶🏻

Yes omg dad!Spencer he's my favorite! Hope you like this 🫶❤️

Spencer Reid x reader

Warnings: reader a little upset (Spence makes her feel better tho), pregnancy (duh), flufffffff, short and sweet, not proofread, wordcount: 582

You try your best to focus on the task at hand, the stack of paperwork you had been putting off all week, emails on top of emails gathering in your computer's inbox, but the kicks of the baby growing inside you keep your mind elsewhere. Her little, still growing, feet kick into your ribs harshly making any position you try to move into uncomfortable, she just can't seem to keep still today; absolutely restless.

If you were home you might whine to your husband, Spencer, maybe even cry out of frustration but being surrounded by coworkers keeps you from doing both just as much as the baby keeps you from work.

Spencer watches as you rest your left hand on top of your bump -your thumb moving gently back and forth against the fabric of your top- and he smiles at the ring adorned on your finger, but when he takes notice of the slight discomfort etched onto your face his grin quickly dissipates. Your brows are drawn together in what seems to be annoyance, your eyes are closed, and your head is tipped back as you swivel your desk chair back and forth in an attempt to calm yourself and your little one.

you can feel Spencer's eyes raking your figure -he's always been able to read you just as quickly as he can read books- and you keep your eyes shut to avoid his worried glance despite your current need for his safeguard. You don't want him to think you're dramatic, that maybe you're being annoying despite knowing he would never think something like that of you and never has.

One of your eyes cracks open to glance at him and you hope the quick movement of you swiveling in your chair will keep him from noticing your peeking, but of course, he's far too perceptive to not detect your gaze. His head cocks to the side in question, "Are you alright," he asks.

You close your eye again and bring your hands to rub at your face, the tips of your cold fingers digging into your eyes, you're starting to get a headache.

Without warning two large hands land on your shoulders, fingers poke and prod at your skin in a way that makes you sigh in relief. When you tilt your head back -eyes still closed- your husband frowns at you, "I wish you'd tell me when your not feeling good."

you almost don't respond the movement of his fingers gently gliding to your hair and scratching at your scalp makes your bottom lip quiver slightly. "I'm okay." Your voice breaks when you speak and Spencer doesn't comment on it, he doesn't want to make you actually cry by pointing it out, instead he moves only one of his also cold hands down the slope of your heated cheeks and rest it there, a gentle remind that he's here for you.

"You look pretty, do you know that," he moves his head closer to your ear to whisper to you, "beautiful."

That finally makes your eyes snap open and he's grinning at you again. Groaning at how his teasing worked to get you looking at him, you tilt your head and lay a kiss on the palm of his hand, "your child is restless," You complain to him, "she gets it from you."

"I'm sorry." His words are sickeningly genuine, they make you smile.

"Its okay baby, I still love you."

He responds to your tease, "You better."

#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds drabble #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x bau!reader

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art · 6 months

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Creator Spotlight: GDBee Art (@prinnay)

Geneva Bowers is inspired by the wonders of the natural world around us, and enjoys manipulating colors to create art full of mood and feelings.

Check out our interview with Geneva below!

How did you get started with art? Did you originally have a background in art?

I’m going to say yes because that’s all I’ve known how to do. It started because I wanted to draw better horses than my sister, and it just spiraled from there. People started asking me to draw things because they saw me drawing horses. I was like, well, I can draw things that aren’t horses, and then it was just kind of all I did.

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

I have one right now! Honestly, with time, and I also collect art books; I think I have a couple hundred. If I really want to draw something, then I just flip through those and try to steal some ideas.

Which three famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

I mean, of course Van Gogh…I’m really inspired by Impressionism and Post-Impressionism, so I would invite Van Gogh, Monet, and Julie Dillon to a dinner party.

Have you ever wanted to dive into another medium before?

Yeah, actually, I currently am! I’m trying to do more traditional painting. I used to do a lot of acrylics, but I haven’t done it in years, and now I’m kind of bad at it. I’m trying to get into actual impressionistic art with oils and oil pastels. I’m like failing, but you know, you get there. Just fail until it looks presentable.

If there is one thing you want your audience to remember about your work, what would it be?

I guess it’s more of a feeling. I create art because I’m inspired by things around me, like certain video games. For example, I have been inspired by a Japanese RPG called Chrono Cross on PlayStation 1. They make me feel a certain type of inspiration to create something, so that’s kind of like what I’m hoping to leave behind.

Have any of your projects surprised you with their outcome?

Yeah! I did this Weapon Faerie series where I took three prompts: a weapon, a winged insect, and an herb, which I combined to make different characters. So, a faerie with a spiked club or a butterfly faerie with a katana. I made 13 of those, and they kind of took off! I wasn’t expecting that at all.

What is the hardest part of your process?

My whole art style is coloring, like the way it’s colored… but I hate the coloring process, haha. I like doing the color combos, but I don’t like the blending and shading. That takes like one-trillion years. It’s the part where I’m most likely to give up. You know how art kind of looks ugly before it looks good? I’m trying to trust that process.

What do you wish you knew when you started creating art that you know now?

I guess one big thing would be knowing how to use lights and darks. When I do color, it is definitely colorful, but when you switch it to black and white, you see that everything’s the same tone of gray. I’ve learned that if you just use some brighter colors and some darker shades, you create a bigger impact in the end. So, now, when I paint something digital, I make it black and white for a moment to see where all the hues are, and if something is weirdly dark or not dark enough, I can change it.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

Oh, @feefal definitely inspires me. She does a lot of spooky art.

#creator spotlight #artists on tumblr #gdbee art #prinnay #nycc 2023 #tumblr nycc #nycc

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vellichor-of-the-solivagant · 5 months

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With Them, Who Swallowed a Star

PAIRING: Professor!Task Force 141 X F!Student!Reader WORD COUNT 5.3k CONTENT WARNING: NSFW! group sex, age gap, fingering, cunnilingus, oral sex, handjobs, facefucking/blowjobs, unprotected sex, p in v, anal sex, slight usage of nicknames, reader is a pianist/student, tf141 are professors, smut with plot SYNOPSIS: A musician is a storyteller in their own ways. You had told yours and captured the sights of men you never expected to pull when you stepped inside an academy. AUTHOR'S NOTE: I tried to be poetic. This fried my brain and I'm not going to write something like this again. That's a lie because I have a series that has 5 love interests. This one was supposed to have Graves as well since he's actually my inspiration for writing this shit, but I ended up not adding him. I might do it on Drabbles if someone asks though. And yes, I have changed my username from DontFearTheReaperAzura. Here's the Masterlist for more! Also on Archive of Our Own

Your fingers fluttered slightly as you lifted your hands to the keys, blocking out the rustling from others as they sat in the grand auditorium. Long and drawn, you began to tell a tale you had held for a long time. Notes swam in the air, old friends that played with your tresses and caressed your skin.

The story started slowly, the sound of the beginning, the beginning of the end. Longing clashed with trepidation, your fingers sang a song of despair. You swayed with the music, lost in the whims of unspoken words—of a world you owned. Quicker and quicker, the notes climbed in sync with your heart, growing joyful in hopes of masking the mournful melody surrounding you.

It filled the emptiness deep within your chest for a moment, before like the heavens shed tears upon a barren land, you showed—you poured out the lore of your world, and with heavy reluctance to leave what you created, you played the last few notes.

For a few moments, you kept your eyes closed, and when a series of claps reached your ears, only then you opened them. You were shackled back to reality just as you held back your work.

You looked at the people, who in your eyes were nothing but shadows at the beginning, now enamored, yearning for the rest. You knew they felt it, too. Pulled, as though you were the center of the system. Like the Sun, a star.

And one man stuck out more than others, gazing at you, blue eyes almost ravenous. But it didn’t last for long, just like a song in the wind, he faded among the standing crowd, drowned out in the flurry of praise.

You breathed out a sigh as you stared at the towering structure before you, now your second hell—in replacement of the ramshackle place you call home—after you had gotten a scholarship to this prestigious university after years of a couple of years of working your ass off. Students rushed past you on their way in and out of their classes, but you stood frozen.

Suddenly you felt awfully unprepared for this unfamiliar place, of socializing and strangers, and of university. Of life. What did Google say about socializing with people your age again? How about impressing a professor? Good lord.

You shrugged off your thoughts and sauntered to your class. A large lecture hall welcomed your sight and you found an empty seat at the front row. Not the perfect place for observation of the whole place, but good for listening to the professor.

The sound of expensive shoes echoed throughout the hushed room and you kept your eyes down as you took out your notebook and pen. As the quiet dragged on, you glanced at the professor and found your brows raising at his sight.

He was tall, seemed to be fit, and in his thirties. He had a few wrinkles, a beard, and brown hair, but no sign of graying.

Above all, you could remember those eyes. An endless swirl of blue. The man at the concert hall.

You put your gaze down as the professor looked down on you, your heart hammered against your ribs, sudden nervousness springing in your nerves. You wished he wouldn’t recognize you, but at the same time, you hoped he did.

Yet, the silence remained, and in curiosity, you looked back up. Your breath hitched as your eyes met his, gaze shining with something you couldn’t decipher, and a smile formed on his lips.

You forced yourself to mirror it and batted a glance at the door. You wanted to get out.

The professor introduced himself as Jonathan Price, and told the class a few things about himself, before diving straight into the first lesson of Philosophy.

Time seemed to flow fast throughout his class and you kept your fingers busy, writing down his words. He was easy to understand, bringing out intricate details in his lesson, and asked questions now and then if he was going too fast while walking around the room.

You couldn’t help but notice his slacks fit in a certain area. Then again, that thing wouldn’t give you a brain cell even if you suck it off.

The bell chimed and you gathered and stuffed your notebook and pen inside your bag, jolting up to your feet. But as you approached the exit, his canorous voice called out to you.

“Pardon me, young lady.”

You turned to face the professor, keeping a respectable distance from him, which he closed off, only standing a couple of feet from you.

“Yes, sir?” You asked in a small voice when he remained silent, his eyes studying you with disconcerting intensity, just like how he gazed at you at your performance.

Finally, after an uncomfortable silence, he asked. “What’s your name?”

You spoke of your name in a steady voice, equally confused and intimidated, you gripped on the strap of your bag. Everyone had already left, now bringing quietness to the hall.

He smiled once again, his head tilting a bit to the side. “A pretty name.” His voice sent goosebumps on your skin, making you breathe in deeply, inhaling the scent of his pleasant cologne. “Such a shame I couldn’t catch it after your performance a couple of weeks ago.”

He remembered you.

Your cheeks began to burn.

Oh, how he yearned to caress your tinted cheeks, place a kiss on them, and mutter praise against your soft skin.

“Ah, you were there, weren’t you, sir?” You offered him a smile and a pause. “I think I caught a glance of you in the front rows.”

“Correct.”

“Thank you for watching, sir,” you said, not knowing what to speak of next, and nodded at him, reaching out to the knob to leave. But he reached for the door, making you blink at his unexpected actions, caged between the door and him.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off of you,” he fessed, bodies now closer to yours that you almost touched, and you gulped. “You were magnificent.” He opened the door, a hand motioning at you. “See you on Wednesday. And I hope we see more of your performance.”

We?

You jolted awake at the loud laughter of a raucous group outside of your room and grunted at the sudden pang of pain in your head when you stood up. You glanced at the alarm clock by your bedside and muttered a crisp curse, hauling your bag. You burst out of your room, slipping past students in the hallway like a breeze, hurried apologies were called out to those poor victims she bumped into.

The morning had been long and tiring, and you decided to take a nap earlier, only to end up sleeping for a couple of hours. Now, you were about to get late for your next class, and the usual ten-minute walk turned into a five-minute run and an uncalled exercise.

You glanced from left to right in the hallway, glancing at your phone to make sure you were in the right building, and turned to the right, following the signs. You halted before a room, strangely closed even though the class was supposed to start in five minutes.

You used your phone as a mirror and patted down your hair, before turning the knob and opening the door. You walked into a softly lit room and realized the mistake you had made as you spotted a man splayed down on a couch across the room. A hand behind his head and over his stomach, and over the lower half of his face was a black mask.

Inside was a personal office, belonging to one of the professors.

You immediately turned away, about to exit the room when an angry voice echoed.

“Have you got no manners?” The man rose to sit, a scowl painted on his face.

For the nth time in your sorry life, you wanted to bury yourself alive. You dipped your head low in embarrassment. “I’m very sorry, sir. I thought this was the room my class was in. I didn’t mean to intrude.” You frantically fumbled on your phone, inputting the wrong password one time, and read your schedule.

You read the room number wrong.

Brilliant. Bloody brilliant.

The professor fixed his crooked mask. “What class were you supposed to go to?”

“Uh, a math class of Mr. Simon Riley,” you read on your phone, keeping your head low.

A hum escaped past the man’s lips, making you glance up at him. His dark blond hair slightly ruffled from his apparent nap and coat a bit crooked. He ran his hand on his hair, fixed his coat, and patted down the invisible wrinkles on the fabric.

He stood up and you inched back, surprised at his stature. A tall man with broad shoulders and arms noticeably strong, (massive honkers) and eyes like a pool of honey, swirling like molten gold under the light.

“You’re in luck, sweetheart. I’m Simon Riley. You’re in my office, our class is in the next room.” Unlike earlier, his cold voice had turned a bit softer, but the fact that he was your professor made your sweat run cold.

You nodded, inwardly wincing at your dumbass. “Again, I apologize, sir.”

He stood before you, next to the opened door. Gladly, there were no students passing by in the hallway.

“What is your name, love?” he questioned, his hands going to his pockets. His eyes narrowed at the way your head dipped, refusing to meet his gaze. Like a meek little bunny, scared of the world and what all those pretty eyes could see.

He wanted to place a finger under your chin and lift your face up to look at him.

You never knew introducing yourself could feel like an interrogation until now. You told him your name, averting your gaze down at his shoes that shifted slightly. “Nice to meet you, Sir Riley. I’m sorry it wasn’t under the best circumstances.”

He hummed once again and stepped out of the office. “Pleasure’s all mine."

You followed him out of the room and he swiftly closed the door behind you, his being a bit closer to you than comfort.

With a nod, Professor Riley led you to the classroom. Dozens of students had already occupied the room and you silently made your way to a vacant seat on the second row, placing your bag next to you.

Just like Mr. Price, the masked professor went straight to the point, briefly introducing himself to the crowd, and began his lesson. He, too, was easy to understand, repeating the equations some couldn't get well, and was kind enough to let the class take a few minutes of break, before continuing. You had also come to notice he would fix his mask every once in a short while.

And when the bell chimed, he bid his students goodbye, yet called for your name. You halted on gathering your things as he approached you. His eyes glanced at the students who last left the room before he spoke.

"Feel free to come by my office whenever you have a question or need anything. Can't have you lose your way again, do we?" He asked, a bit of amusement in his voice as he leaned close.

You smiled at his offer. "Thank you, sir."

Sure as shooting, you asked him where your next room was for Chemistry. By good fortune, he knew where it was and who the professor would be.

"Ah, there he is." Sir Riley abruptly came to a stop, making you halt in your tracks as well and follow the direction of his gaze, to see a man with a mohawk.

"Simon!" The man jogged towards the two of you, a grin playing on his lips in contrast to the man who never took off his mask. Another person with blue optics, but his were bluer as though someone took a piece of the briny deep and placed it in his optics.

He kept a smile as his attention swept to you. "And who's the little bird?"

You frowned a bit at the nickname, nonetheless gave him your name, and watched his eyes light up with fascination. The man began to tell the pull he felt by the notes of your music, how enamored he was by the unspoken words of your tale.

He was there, too and Sir Riley was along with them.

Your face flushed as he ranted and they both noticed, taking note of the shades painted on your skin, bashful of the sudden recognition.

"He is John Mactavish, your Chemistry professor," Sir Riley piped in, placing a hand on the other man's shoulder, before bidding his farewell at the moment, marching down to his next class.

Left all alone with Professor Mactavish, you turned to him. He grinned at you and he beckoned at you to follow him. The man was, well, talkative and wasted not a second expressing his applause of your performance and how he never expected to see you in the university.

You could only mutter small words and nod, already feeling exhausted. But it was pleasant to hear him compliment you. You could get used to it.

And you could get used to his enthusiasm for teaching. His first lesson went straight to an experiment and dragged you to his side as his assistant, instructing you to mix chemicals. Occasionally, his fingers brushed over yours as you passed vials.

Your eyes met, and sparks flew all around.

Literal spark.

And fire.

Professor Mactavish pulled you to the side, hand remaining on your arm as the chemicals were set ablaze.

With a couple of ticks of the clock, a giggle erupted from your lips and like there was a pull, his chuckles followed.

In the sea of awes, his laughter floated on the surface.

You sprinted on the hall, navigating through the winding routes of the structures, and arrived at one of the most exquisite auditoriums you had ever set eyes on. Your eyes took in the magnificent chandeliers and the divine paintings stretched across the ceiling.

The sound of a throat clearing pulled you from your stupor.

“Are you just going to stand there?” a voice called for your attention to where he stood near the stage. The man basked in the warm glow of the concert hall, skin as though molten caramel, and eyes like embers.

“Oh, forgive me, sir.” You straightened yourself up like a soldier before a superior. “I was just, well, this place is beautiful.” You couldn’t help but glance around once again.

“Isn’t it?” A soft smile crawled its way to his lips and he approached you. “I am Mr. Garrick and you are . . .” your name rolled out of his tongue like a serenade, gentle to the ears, a sight to see the way his lips moved, and he extended a hand to you.

You clasped it gently before realization dawned on you. “Pardon me, Garrick as in the Kyle Garrick?”

In a flash of a moment, something sparkled in his eyes and searched yours. “Yes, it is me.”

You nearly squealed and ran around the room in excitement. “Oh my God. Wow. I-I’m a huge fan, sir. You were such a huge inspiration to me—and, and, I wished I could have watched your performance at the concert before, but I was busy preparing for mine. Oh, that must be why Mr. Price, Mr. Riley, and Mr. MacTavish were there! You are friends!” Your words tumbled out of delight.

"Yes, well, thank you for the kind words." His hand sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, his smile becoming wider.

You gazed at him for a few moments before you snapped out of it, your brain slapping it to your face that you just rambled in front of this gentleman. "I'm very sorry, that was unprofessional of me."

"No need for apologies. But I do want to get a feel of your play today as soon as possible." A hand landed on your back, his warmth slipping through the fabric as he led you towards the grand piano patiently waiting for you at the stage.

Your fingers itched in anticipation.

Sir Garrick gave you a comforting smile and sat on the front row seat. "Feel free to play whatever your heart desires."

What your heart desires.

With a shaky breath, once again, you began to tell a tale, the notes sounding like a human voice as it wove its sonorous song.

A ballad to tie what dream your heart made. An andante at first and increased tempo at each heartbeat.

Lightning striking and thunder howling, Kyle was consumed with the way you swayed from one note to another. He couldn't peel his eyes off you as though you had him in your grasp, a puppet for you to control. And only when the last of the music hung in the air, could he snap free of the strings.

He walked towards you and dropped to his knee, taking one of your hands in his palm. "You were truly astonishing."

"I'm telling you, she was marvelous," Kyle exclaimed, pacing around Price's office and pointing at his fellow professors. "Blimey, if only you guys were there the other day, you'd feel chills."

Simon kept a straight face as he sat on the couch, legs spread, his knees bumping with Johnny who took a seat beside him, sipping from his mug of coffee. Whilst, Jonathan inclined on his chair behind a mahogany desk, decorated with intricate carvings and souvenirs he had gathered as they traveled across continents.

"I get that you're delighted, but could you quiet down?" Price grumbled on his desk, a pang of pain shooting his head.

"No, I am not shutting up." Kyle raised a hand, shaking his head. "She recognized my name. My name.” He pointed at himself.

“Anyone would recognize your name if they’re yer fan or hater,” Johnny quipped and placed the mug down on the coffee table.

Kyle turned to him. “You don’t get it, mate. She said she’s a fan of mine. I was a huge inspiration to her—”

“Was a huge inspiration to her,” Simon echoed, leaning back against the couch. “Used to be, not anymore.”

Kyle glared and stomped towards the masked man, grabbing his collar when the other merely raised his brows in a challenge. “I swear to God, Simon, I swear to—”

“I swear to God if you three don’t shut the fuck up—” Price paused, straightening himself from his chair as Kyle shook Simon, and glared at them— “I’ll have you asinine blokes chopped into bits!”

Kyle let go of Simon, who simply fixed his crooked collar and tie, and raised a brow at the man behind the desk. He sat down on a vacant chair, his eyes not leaving Price, and asked, “Are you jealous she recognized me, Price?” he was answered with another glare, which he shrugged at. “Or not.” He definitely is.

For a few moments, they sat in silence, each lost in their train of thought. All centered on a certain lady, whom they had watched from afar, now within their grasp. They only acted as though it was their first time meeting you.

Each born to a wealthy family, presented interesting things which soon died down as they broke them down into pieces, they had grown bored. And had found that there were only a few they could put their trust in this world. Though not related by blood, they shared everything since they were younger. They knew one another strengths and weaknesses. Their faults. Their passions.

Their desires.

A knock pulled them out of their reveries.

Johnny being the closest to the door, got up and opened it. A smile was brought to his face as he found you. “Hello, bonnie. C’mon in.” He swung the door open, a hand motioning at you.

You hesitantly stepped in as you saw your professors inside the office, eyes all settled on you. You put a hand on your other arm to hold down your nervousness as the door behind you shut.

Four men who were strangely overly friendly to you. You could think of a couple of reasons. The first being a musician they had watched and the second, being their student.

A hand landed on the small of your back, guiding you further in, making your face flush. “Have a seat,” Sir MacTavish waved a hand at the sofa, where he and Simon sat.

You kept your gaze low as you obeyed him, sitting between him and your math professor, red cheeks going in a deeper shade as you met Kyle’s gaze. Embarrassed, you finally faced Price, and asked, “What is it that you called me for, Professor?”

Price put his elbows over his desk and intertwined his fingers. “We have a proposition for you . . .” Your name rolled sensually out of his tongue.

The proposition was to be their assistant. Given their overlapping schedules these days, it was hard for them to handle them. At first, you refused the offer, telling them you had a part-time job to do, along with practicing your skills in piano. But they had already thought about that and said they could pay you for your work.

A tempting proposal. Perfect for a student like you who got into this prestigious school through a scholarship.

You tapped your pen on the table and heaved a sound sigh, slouching on the chair. You were in a cafe near the school, in an attempt to change the atmosphere and help you write a report for Sir MacTavish's and Sir Price’s classes, but it didn’t seem to be helping at the moment. A pleasant music came from your earphones to block out the background noises and you closed your eyes to lull yourself.

When you opened your eyes, you jolted up your seat. “Shit!” your hands immediately flew to your potty mouth and straightened your spine at the sight of one of your professors, Simon, across the table. “Ah, uh, I’m very sorry, sir. I didn’t notice you—”

“Why do you apologize so often?” his rough voice was low and he placed a cup of tea on the table. His eyes landed on your notebook, full of notes, written clean as though it was printed.

You pursed your lips, unable to think of an answer, and ran your tongue over the soft flesh, catching Simon’s attention. “I . . .”

Simon glanced around the empty cafe, the only other person within the area was the staff over the counter, who kept her eyes on her phone. And you had perfectly picked a secluded spot. He looked back at you and reached out a hand, placing it under your chin. He lifted your face to bring your eyes to his.

Your heart raced at his actions.

“An angel as brilliant as you are should carry yourself with confidence, sweetheart.” His thumb caressed your lips. “Perhaps, we could teach you that.”

Your lips parted at his touch, warmth pooling at your stomach. You knew this was strange—wrong, and yet you didn’t want him to stop.

But he let go and leaned back, and you found yourself gripping on your thigh. “Have you thought of our proposal last week?”

You nodded, clearing your throat. “I have, sir.”

“What do you say?”

“The offer is good, and I don’t think it will clash with my schedule under normal circumstances, either.” You paused, letting him wait for your answer as you gazed into his caramel eyes. “I’ll take it, professor.”

You were fond of puzzles. You were interested in mysteries. And you were drawn to danger.

Being their assistant had more perks than you initially thought it was. You talked with them about their terms and added some of yours, and they seemed to be pretty considerate about it.

Maybe, a bit too much.

You had moved to an apartment they got you, so you wouldn’t be distracted by your roommates. When you had breaks, they would call you to their offices and give you desserts and snacks.

And more often than not, their touches lingered, turning into hugs, caressing, and pinching when in private. To close, seemingly the start of a taboo, a risk, and yet when Professor Price had you pinned between him and Professor Garrick in his office one late night when most of the people at school had gone home, you didn't want them to stop.

You wanted the heat to rush over you, like a forest fire, unwavering.

Didn't pull back when he planted his lips on you. Didn't stop the very professor you looked up to as a musician to bunch up your skirt and grind his dick against your ass. Didn't stop even when the other two entered and Sir Price had his hand rubbing against your clothed cunt. Didn't stop when Professor Riley locked the door behind him as Sir Mactavish joined in.

Johnny’s snaked a hand around your waist, a bit harsher than the ones he’d always done, but you didn’t mind it. Not when his lips were gentle against yours, patient and exploring as he led you on his lap when he sat on your couch, stealing you from Price and Garrick. He drank on your gasp as you felt another pair of lips on your nape, dusting kisses along your flesh.

Simon breathed against your shoulder, hand grasping the swell of your breast and performed maddening massage that got your nipples pebbling under the fabric of your top. You flinched when he took them by fingers, the rolls languid, and shifted on the other man’s lap as you felt a poke underneath.

Johnny groaned against you, parting the breathtaking kiss. He removed you from his lap, only to turn you against him, now facing the professor who had shed his mask. His fingers dipped under the band of your panties, into your untouched bud and your wet folds. He rubbed with a hum, spreading your filth.

“You're so wet, hen,” he commented and inserted a digit, rubbing it against your slick walls.

Your teeth sunk to your lower lip, biting back a squeal at the sudden intrusion.

Simon placed his fingers under your chin and leaned down on you, his tongue running over your lips, something he had always wanted to do before. “Don't bite your lips. That's something we're supposed to do, yeah?” He whispered on your lips and explored your mouth, savoring the echoes of your pleasure, and left to plant his marks on your collarbones. Hands gathered your shirt and lifted it, exposing your chest to his sight.

His mouth dropped to the nipple, sucking while his hand went to work on the other.

Johnny began to pump faster, making you throw your head back to his chest, moaning out in pleasure as you shot a glance at other professors.

“You are not so innocent after all, hm?” Price took your jaw and ran his thumb over your lips, before pushing it in, muffling your cries.

“No one's that innocent nowadays, Price,” Garrick remarked, watching the frown on your face and the flutter of your lashes at every jerk of Johnny's hand made and Simon’s tongue did. His tongue ran over his lips, hand cupping over his hard-on, palming himself through his pants.

You began to suck on Price’s finger, making his dick twitch in his pants—his brain wondering how good your mouth would feel around him. He pulled his hand away to work down on his belt and pants, hands pulling out his shaft. He gave it a few pumps, chuckling when he noticed the way your tongue ran over your swollen lips before a groan escaped from it as Simon planted a bite on your neck and Johnny's thumb began to work on your clit.

Price brought his tip to your mouth. “Open up, dove,” he demanded and grunted as he pushed his shaft in, breath hitching at the warm feeling of your tongue and your throat. Your face twisted a bit at the taste of his precum. He let you adjust for a couple of seconds, hand going to the back of your head before he began to thrust.

One of your hands flew to hold onto his hip as you let him use your mouth, eyes fluttering closed and focusing on breathing through your nose. Out of the blue, Johnny pulled his fingers out and Simon stepped away, eliciting a whine from you. Vibrations ran down Price’s body and he groaned.

Unbuckling of belts echoed in the air, and you were pulled away from Price, making him curse. The next thing you knew, you were staring into the eyes of the man you had admired for so long.

“Sir—”

Kyle put his thumb over your lips, cutting off your words. “Not sir. Call me Kyle.” He positioned his cock under your cunt, rubbing the tip on your entrance.

You gasped at the sensation. “Kyle . . .” Your jaw slacked as he slowly went in, hands pulling you closer to his clothed body, fingers running on your flesh, gentle just as how he played his instruments.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s it,” he groaned, hands sliding down to your ass to guide you up and down on his length.

Now, he made music out of you.

It didn’t take a few ticks of the clock until they fucked you with all they had.

Simon’s cock was buried in the confines of your mouth, fingers tangled on your tresses, watching the curls of your lashes get soaked by the tears that rolled down on your cheeks as they relentlessly pounded on you—Kyle on your pussy, Price on your ass, and Johnny on your grasps. You had never felt so full, so complete.

You feel your legs shake—the sign you have reached the pinnacle of pleasure and exhaustion when Kyle hits the spot deep in you. You whined against Simon’s cock, groaning as beg for the overdue orgasm that they had been keeping from you.

You felt a hand slide down your thigh, finding your swollen clit, before the rough pads of the fingers rubbed aguishly gentle and slow. If they weren’t your professors, you would have cursed at whoever the one was doing it. But your wish had been heard and he picked up the pace until you were crying, arching your back.

But they weren’t done.

You felt Kyle and Price become rougher at each of their thrust, Simon tugging on your hair harder, and Johnny losing his rhythm on your hands, until they all pulled back, coating your skin with their cum.

You slumped on Kyle’s chest, limbs like a stringless puppet as you ride out the aftermath of your orgasm. Your heavy lids fell close, tired from the deed, but you fought back the drowsiness, not wanting to fall asleep in the state you were in.

“You did good, love,” Kyle cooed into your ear and planted a soft kiss on your temple.

Johnny leaned down and pressed a kiss on your shoulder. “Yer amazing, bonnie. Can’t wait to have more of ya.”

A hand caressed your flushed cheek, swiping the transparent mix of tears and sweat. “Let’s bring you back to your apartment, dove,” Price said in a gentle voice.

Gentle fingers scraped your scalp, gaining a hum from you, must be Simon with how his fingers feel on your head. An unspoken apology about the way he tugged on your locks.

Like the sky glowing, your skin glittered in the ruins they drew up. A masterpiece you were, vulnerable, vincible in their sight, like walls that had fallen. And yet as though a book which held thousands of words, they still had more things to know about you.

Like every start of a relationship. How fortresses were made. Each beginning of a story.

You basked in the echoes of their praise, letting their words bring you comfort and slowly help you regain your mind and strength.

Like after a fire, new maps were drawn. A new tale was written, with them, who swallowed a star.

Taglist: @itsyellow

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quantumfeat72 · 2 years

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for the past few years i’ve had a personal rule that i do not sign anything i haven’t read - mostly because i genuinely think it’s a good idea, but also as a kind of social experiment - and i wanna share some observations

when i worked at an amusement park, i was one of like two or three people in a group of around twenty young adults who read the employment contract

i gave up on reading every TOS and privacy policy early on - now i only read them if it’s a website or company i’ll be giving personal information to (and even then i only skim them) - but i’ve never found anything super suspect in one

i also have an exception for when i’m made to feel like i’d be an asshole for stopping to read something. notable examples of this going into effect include the patient-intake paperwork at the ER when i went in a few months ago. (i really wish i’d just gone ahead and been the asshole in that situation, even though i have no reason to think there was anything bad in it)

i think the only time i was the only one to read something that the people who gave it to us actually wanted us to read was the waiver at a cat café, which included a lot of safety information about how to interact with the cats

one time i was approached by a guy with a petition who told me it was an anti-fracking petition (which was a real petition that was going around at the time), but the paper he handed me was a petition to instate a “citizenship requirement” for voting. i pointed this out to him and he tried to convince me that even though that’s what it said, it’s not really what my signature meant, and then named the university he graduated from as though it gave him some level of extra credibility??

i have more than once been given a HIPPA form at a doctor’s office where my signature certifies that i’ve been offered a copy of their privacy practices, when i had not, in fact, been offered a copy of their privacy practices. the last time this happened, the receptionist didn’t actually have a copy of their privacy practices, and had to get me to me sign it several days later once she got a copy from her manager

99% of people are very accommodating when you tell them “i want to read this before i sign it,” but it’s never what they’re expecting

on a related note, if someone thinks it’s important that you know what’s in something they’re giving you to sign, they won’t wait for you to read it - they’ll go through, point to each section, and tell you what it says. this is what happened when i signed my lease, and it’s actually a pretty common instance of using my asshole exception, because then i feel like i’m calling the person a liar if i stop to read it myself

the moral of the story is... like... we treat a signature like it’s the absolute most surefire way of saying “yes i understand this and agree to it,” but in practice there’s not even a pretense that a signature means you’ve READ whatever you’re signing. in fact, handing someone a piece of paper and saying “sign here” is one of the LEAST effective ways to make sure they understand and agree to something, and PEOPLE KNOW THIS, and we do it ANYWAY because what else are we gonna do? notarize it??

i don’t have a solution but like. that’s kinda fucked up, you know?

#mine #i didn't realize i had this many things to say about it until i had it all written out #but like #read your contracts guys #i know it sucks but its important #100 notes #500 notes #1000 notes #5000 notes

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mochinek0 · 4 months

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Family Secrets

Damian couldn't believe his eyes. He had seen pieces of that costume when he lived in the League, but never did he expect to see his mother, disguised, in Paris! He carefully kept an eye on her as she walked into a bakery. He felt his own breath hitch as a young girl came and hugged her.

"Nonna!" she cried.

'Grandmother?'

"Hello, My Leetle Fairy." his mother replied, hugging her back.

"Are you having fun on your travels?" the girl questioned, "Where did you go this time?"

"Egypt." his mother declared.

The girl smiled, "Did you see the pyramids?"

His mother brought out a keychain of a pyramid and handed it to the girl.

"It's great!" the girl smiled, "I'll keep it on my desk so when I see it, I can think of you."

"I wish you could come with me." the disguised Talia declared.

"Maybe when I'm older?" the young girl answered.

Talia tapped the young girl's nose, "Possibly, but we know very well how hard you work."

"Mom!" announced a man, who seemed the size of Bane, "How are you?"

Damian watched on in shock. He was aware that his mother was much older than she appeared. Hearing someone around his father's age, refer to his mother as a maternal figure was unsettling.

"I'm fine, Tom." she answered.

"Would you like to put your bag down and rest?" he asked.

"Nonsense." his mother replied, "I may look older, but I'm fine. I wanted to see if Marinetta would like to take a ride around the city with me."

"Yes!" the girl cried.

Damian watched as they both got on a motorcycle and drove off.

It took awhile, but Damian finally spotted them near the Seine, eating ice cream. The girl was looking down at something, in her lap. His mother's eyes connected with his and he knew he had made her.

"I'll be right back." Gina spoke, kissing Marinette on the head.

Gina walked in Damian's direction.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Do you plan to kidnap her, Mother?" Damian questioned.

"Of course not!" Gina snapped.

"Who is she?" he asked.

Talia sighed, "Your niece; she's your age."

"So the man who called you mother-"Damian began.

"Your grandfather wanted me out of the way. He was looking for a male successor to take over." Talia began to explain, "He kicked me out of the League, briefly, and I had some semblance of a normal life. I fell in love with a baker. Tom is our son, before I ever met your father. Essentially, he is your older brother."

She sighed, "Everyhting was fine and I was happy, until he sent someone to exterminate us. Before I killed him, I learned my death was a test. Kill me and become successor to the League. I returned with his head and threw it at your grandfather's feet. He looked at me and said he would allow me back on one condition."

"What was it?" Damian asked.

"I had to leave my family." she admitted, "I said I understood and would be back in three months. I knew he would never stop coming after us."

"Why three months?" her son questioned, "You were already there. Did they not know of the League?"

"Tom was getting married and no, my family knew nothing about the League. I returned and told my family I would be 'traveling in my old age'. A few years after he got married, I came back to a three year old granddaughter. Your grandfather found out and forbid my return."

"Grandfather is dead." Damian spoke.-changing subject

"I've been stopping in more." she declared, "They aren't like us. They're not like your father. They know nothing about my past, aside from divorcing a man, who made me happy. I tell them I'm traveling around the word. I wear a wig and makeup. At some point, I will have to stop visiting all together since anyone else will grow old and pass on. The League........you lose sense of time when there. Two years ago, I thought she was still three. She was turning fourteen."

"What about the man?" her son asked.

Talia smiled, "Reminds me of your grandfather, actually. He's all about 'traditions', so perhaps it was for the best."

"Nonna!" Marinette cried out.

"Please, Damian, leave them alone." his mother whispered.

Damian watched as his mother walked away. He had never known her to beg for something.

"My Leetle Fairy, are you ready to go back home?" Gina asked, "Do you have new inspiration for your designs? I can't wait to see the clothes you create this time."

Damian watched as the girl put her sketchbook away.

'Clothes? Designs?'

He smiled softly. She was an artist, like him. He watched as his mother got on the motorcycle with his niece. What surprised him was seeing his niece glare at him. Damian chuckled.

'Mother may not see it, but she is a lot like them. A little fairy.'

"Damian, a Fairy is someone who helps people who are lost in the dark. It's not always in a literal sense; it can be figurative."

The young Al-Ghul turned and walked in the opposite direction.

'Fairy is a suitable name for my niece. I wonder how Mother would feel learning her true nature? A Fae who lures in her prey.'

TAG LIST: @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @meme991001 @vixen-uchiha @abrx2002 @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @missmadwoman @meira-3919 @princessdaisysolosyourfaves @blep-23 @fangirlingfanatic @darkhinauniverse @ravenr22 @im-a-satanic-ritual @ravennm84 @bianca-hooks123 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @starling218

#Damian Al Ghul #Damian Wayne #talia al ghul #marinette dupain cheng #gina dupain #tom dupain #sabine cheng #ra al ghul #family secrets #platonic daminette #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #maribat #league of assassins #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #mochinek0

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jishyucks · 5 months

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My Boss Followed Me Home for Christmas — pjs

‣ pairing: CEO!park jay x reader

‣ genre: fluff, coworkers-to-something more?, traces of hurt/comfort

‣ wc: 4.0k

‣ summary: Your ability to empathize was a blessing and curse. When you see your boss sitting alone in his office on Christmas Day, you can’t help but invite him to your family party. And when he actually says yes, you’re kind of stuck regretting the offer simply because you’re not sure how this is going to turn out.

‣ warnings: none I don’t think?, implications that Jay doesn’t have the best family (they’re just realllly busy, nothing too bad), reader has a big family, implied that reader is smaller/shorter than Jay

‣ an: 3rd in the True Love Gave to Me Series! I honestly enjoyed writing this so much (hence why it’s way longer than I wanted it to be),, the filipino rly jumped out in this with the big family and the games I’m sorry (>///<) it’s honestly just what I’m more familiar with so it was easier for me to write! Anyways,, ENJOY THIS AND THANKS FOR READING!!

Series Masterlist

It was weird seeing the office so empty.

You weren’t constantly dodging bodies on the way to your desk, you’re not overstimulated by the sounds of the printers and the ringing phones, and the place did not seem as suffocating as you usually make it out to be.

But it was only empty because it was Christmas. There was absolutely no one here and you were only here to pick up your work agenda, which made complete sense why the office was so much more appealing.

You wished it was usually like this.

Your phone rings the second you reach your desk. When you go to check who was calling you, you find your mother’s contact photo blown up on your screen and you answer it almost right away.

“Hey mom.”

“Honey, where are you? Are you on the way?” You can hear voices in the background at the other end of the line and you’re guessing your family just arrived at the party.

“I am,” you say, “I just dropped by the office to pick something up. I’m guessing I’ll be there in around fifteen to twenty minutes?” You lean against your desk. You realize your agenda is not sitting on your desk so you figured it was somewhere inside it.

“Okay, hon,” your mom acknowledges your reply, “Take care on the way here, the roads are slippery.” She says something to someone next to her, and before you can even reply she hangs up.

You tuck your phone into your jacket pocket and pull your desk cabinet open, immediately finding your agenda on top of everything. You mutter a 'there it is' before you push the cabinet back shut, turning to leave.

It’s before you leave that you notice the light on at the end of the long hallway to the left of your desk. It was a hallway rather hidden from the main office, so you hadn’t taken notice of it at first, but now that you did take notice, curiosity had gotten the best of you.

Because who in the world was here on Christmas?

You’d take a good guess and say it was a caretaker, but you didn’t think any of the caretakers were even paid well enough to be here on a major holiday. So if it wasn’t a caretaker, who was it?

You quietly make your way down the hallway, passing empty offices along the way. Then once you’ve just about reached the seemingly occupied room, you halt and use your neck to peek around the corner.

A gasp almost audibly leaves your lips when your eyes catch sight of your boss sitting alone at his desk. His brows are furrowed as he stares up at his screen, eyes looking rather intently at whatever he was working on. You can tell that he didn’t expect anyone to catch him at the office, dressed in a simple designer hoodie.

You hate how one of the first thoughts that enter your mind is how attractive the man looks just sitting there and typing. But you were human, after all.

“Sir?”

Jay jumps at your voice, swearing under his breath, “Y-Y/N? What are you doing here?” His cheeks heat up in embarrassment, he makes brief eye contact with you before he avoids it altogether.

“I was just,” you hold up your agenda, “Picking this up… what are you doing here, sir? Don’t you have any plans for Christmas?” Sure your reply seemed a bit inconsiderate because in the back of your mind you knew not everyone celebrated Christmas or the holidays… but your boss had a mini Christmas tree sitting at the corner of his desk, so you figured he did celebrate the season in some way.

Jay’s still slightly taken aback, frozen in his seat as he studies the random lines on his computer, “I… don’t.” You watch the way his lips flicker into a frown for a quick second before he plasters a fake smile, “But it’s okay! I have a lot of work to do anyway for Wednesday! Better to catch up befo—”

“Sir, I know I don’t really have a right to say this, but you should take the day off and relax,” you frown.

Jay is unsure how to reply. He sits in his seat for a few brief moments and his mouth bobs open and closed like a fish. Cause, frankly, how can he reply to that when he wants to do anything but go home to an empty house? Why did it have to be you who had to catch him?

If it were anyone else, they would have left him alone.

If it were anyone else, it would have been easier to send them off with some dismissive reply he can muster up in his head.

“I don’t really want to go home,” Jay says quietly. It’s so quiet that you almost don’t catch it. But you do. And because you do, you catch the way his lips remain downturned. He just thinks you can’t see it behind the miniature Christmas tree.

You feel a tickling feeling in your chest and without thinking, you ask, “Do you want to come to my family’s Christmas party tonight?” It’s funny because you don’t regret your question (well, just a bit, but that’s beside the point). In fact, a small part of you was actually glad that your mouth had decided to choke the question out before you could hold yourself back.

Jay gulps. He wasn’t against it, but wouldn’t it be odd for him to come?

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

You take a step forward so that you can now clearly see him. His eyes were running over the keys of his keyboard over and over, trying to keep himself from looking at you. “You won’t be a bother. My family’s pretty big so there’s a lot of space.”

“It’s really okay, Y/N, I’m fine spending time here.”

“Sir, I promise you, it’s fine,” you press, “My other family members bring guests all the time and we don’t care.” You take another step forward and now it was harder for Jay to avoid your gaze.

He’s forced to look up at you and that was his mistake. Jay feels his chest explode with warmth because he now just realized that you were dressed more casually than he was used to. You were wearing a pair of baggy jeans and underneath your long coat, he could see Rudolph printed on your ugly Christmas sweater. He admits to himself that you looked adorable, but to remain professional he keeps that thought at the back of his head.

“If… if you insist,” Jay replies slowly, unsure whether or not he should turn his computer off

Your eyes light up, “Well, I’m going there right now. You can follow me to my house.”

“Right now?” Jay’s hesitant to move, hand frozen on his mouse, “As in right this second?”

The answer was yes. Right that second.

The next thing Jay knew, he was following you up the stairs of your front porch and he was not even sure how to act. He was a CEO for God’s sake. Why was he nervous about joining you for a Christmas party when he’s always up at the front of a business room speaking? It wasn’t like he was meeting your family as your boyfriend or anything (and it for sure wasn’t because he wanted to make a good impression on your family…).

“Where are my damn keys…” You’re standing at your front door, wrist-deep and rummaging through your small bag. Jay awkwardly stands behind you, teetering back and forth on the balls of his feet like a little kid.

Before you can even find your keys, the door swings open to reveal a short older woman with a kind smile. Her eyes light up at the sight of you and when she exclaims “Honey! Finally!” Jay immediately figures that the woman is your mom.

“Come in, come in,” she quickly says, “It’s cold out there. Oh! And you must be…?” Your mom leans over to look at Jay who’s unsure whether he should actually move.

You speak up for him, “Um, mom, this is my bos—”

“I’m Jay,” he interrupts, “I’m–uh–Y/N’s coworker and friend.”

“His family is–uh–busy for Christmas so I invited him,” you quickly add, “I hope that’s okay with you, mom.”

You look back at him with a questioning look but he quickly dismisses it, “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“It’s no problem, the more the merrier! And oh, just call me Auntie! There’s really no need for those kinds of formalities,” your mom laughs. Then she looks over at you with a smirk ghosting her lips but she stops herself, “Everyone’s just waiting to eat.”

You let your mom walk ahead and you stay back, “Sir, what—”

“Y/N, we’re not at work,” Jay points out. And hearing you call him sir was sort of irritating him right now, “It’s… Just call me Jay… besides you invited me into your home right?” Then he repeats what your mom said just moments ago, “No need for those kinds of formalities.”

You can’t help but laugh, side-eyeing him, “Fine, if you say so, Jay.”

You lead Jay into the house, and he’s greeted by your family members sprawled out all over the living room and kitchen. When you said your family was big, you weren’t kidding. He had no idea how he was supposed to approach this situation.

When Jay turns the corner, trailing you closely, he’s met with a room full of people, all dressed in ugly Christmas sweaters like you were. A few of your older relatives were sitting at the dining table chatting about something seemingly interesting. At one corner of the nearby living room, right by the Christmas tree, were kids shaking presents, trying to take good guesses as to what they were receiving this year. And huddled on the couches was a group of young adults around your age—he’d guess they were your cousins—and they were having their own conversation, too.

And though Jay should be feeling out of place because not only does he not know anyone but you, he wasn’t wearing an ugly Christmas sweater like everyone else was, he simply doesn’t.

The atmosphere felt welcoming—that was his first impression. And he couldn't have been happier when you started introducing him to everyone, making him genuinely feel welcome.

Your aunts and uncles gazed at him with large eyes, curious about who this boy was despite you clearly introducing him as your friend. And when you brought him to meet your cousins last, you were surprised that Jay easily clicked with your guy cousins. It was like you were seeing a whole different side of your boss, one that proved that he was your age and not the uptight CEO you face at work.

“The dress code for this year was ugly Christmas sweaters,” you say once you both settled with your cousins, “But I’m guessing you already noticed.” Jay sits cross-legged in the empty spot next to you.

Jay nods, “Your family all seem so nice.”

“I’m glad you think that,” you grin, “I take pride in that, if I’m being honest.” Then you realize that the topic of family might be a bit too sensitive for Jay and you try to change it, “Anyways, after dinner, we play games. You better join.”

“I’ll try?” Jay questions. You can tell he’s growing more comfortable with the situation, but he’s still trying to keep himself composed.

“Trying is better than nothing,” you shrug, “But I promise you you’ll have a lot of fun.”

There’s a brief silence between the two of you and Jay has this sudden urge to thank you. Because, well, it made sense in this situation. He could wait ‘till the end, but he was itching to just shower you in thank yous.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“This took me a while to find deep in your dad’s things but I finally found it!” Your mom comes out of nowhere, arms slipping between the two of you to reveal an ugly sweater, “I know your dad had another from years ago!”

“I’m confused,” you say.

“For Jay!” Your mom holds the sweater out for Jay to take, a bright smile stretched across her face. She jokes, “Don’t want you sticking out like a sore thumb in pictures. Why are you wearing black on Christmas, hm?”

You almost facepalm, seeing your mom treat Jay like he was your boyfriend. Sure, it was great she was trying to make Jay feel even more included, but the gesture seemed so… odd to be doing it with just a friend of yours. You’re hoping that Jay isn’t getting the wrong idea because, frankly, it would be embarrassing if he did.

“Oh… t-thank you auntie…” Jay gulps and you see his eyes flicker toward you. He wonders if you think it was weird for him to take it. But he didn’t want to say no to your mom, not when she went out of her way to find the sweater, “I’ll put it on right now.”

“You better,” your mom jokes one more time before leaving you both and back to your other relatives.

You watch as Jay goes to take his hoodie off, revealing a white t-shirt. At first glance, you don’t process what’s printed on his shirt, but when he fumbles with the sweater, you realize that it’s an old Christmas shirt from when he was a kid. The text reads Christmas 2010 and the picture is a picture of him and his parents. You figured that the shirt was probably his dad's.

You smile sadly, eyeing the shirt as he throws on the sweater. You don’t notice, but the corners of Jay’s lips lift upward into a small, subtle smile. He looks up at you, “How does it look?”

“It looks good,” you say, “A little bit big, but it’s fine.” You can see the way the sleeves bunch up at Jay’s wrists. He looked rather adorable in the sweater (and again, you don’t say anything).

The games began soon after it was established that everyone was finished digesting their food.

One of your older cousins, who had planned the games, started the games with the kids first. You secretly knew it was just a tactic to get them tired for later, hoping that they’d settle while the adults and older kids played their own games.

Then when that was done and over with, she moved on to the first game that you and Jay could participate in—the island game. The premise of the game was to step onto a sheet of gift wrapping paper and, along with a partner, fold and manipulate it so that they both could stand on it without touching the floor.

“We need six groups of two!”

Two by two, you watch your cousins as they group together, stepping up to get the secret prize sitting in a gift bag.

“You two should join!” your mom urges, “What fun is it just watching? Jay, you must be clever right? Go try!”

Afraid to say no to your mom, Jay turns to you, “I’ll do it if you do it… you said it’d be fun, right?”

You hesitate for a quick moment. Yes, the games were fun, but you were talking about the relays or the simple, single-player games. You weren’t sure if you wanted to play with Jay, simply because it involved having to get all up close and personal with your partner.

You look around and notice that a handful of your family members are waiting for you and Jay to join, and that pressure is something you can’t take. You nod and plaster a smile on your face, “Right! Let’s go!”

Nervously you walk to an empty sheet sitting flat on the ground and Jay follows you, standing at your side as your cousin runs over the rules. You wait for Jay to realize the mistake he’s made by suggesting to play, but instead of a look of worry, he’s smiling. He looked rather excited, a hint of determination ghosting his face.

Before you both know it, the game begins. The first round was the easiest—you both had simply stood within the two-feet by two-feet sheet of paper. But as each round passes, the area that you and Jay can stand on gets smaller and smaller. And as the area shrinks, so does the space between you two.

You’re so close to him that you can smell his perfume and you can feel his breath against your forehead. Your heart betrays you because you can feel it pounding against your chest. You only hope that Jay doesn’t hear or feel it.

You look down at the folded sheet of paper. It was less than half of its original size and something is telling you that the next round was going to be difficult.

Your cousin cues for the next round to begin and you and Jay get off the paper to fold it. He mumbles, “I don’t think we can both stand on this. Or both our feet at least.”

“We can each balance on one foot,” you suggested. You test out the size and place your foot on it. There was barely enough room for two feet.

When Jay notices this he shakes his head, “I don’t think that would work… we’d just fall over. I think I’ll have to carry you.” His suggestion makes you look up and you find him staring back, “You can get on my back?”

“Can you balance on one foot with me on your back?” you question. It’s suddenly getting hot in the room. Was it your sweater? You hope so. You don’t want to dwindle on the thought any longer.

He nods, “I think I can.”

“O-Okay,” you say quietly. You glance at the other teams and see that your cousins are on the brink of tears trying not to laugh because if they laughed, they’d lose balance with the ridiculous poses they’re somehow pulling.

Jay kneels down, one knee touching the ground before he gestures for you to get on. And you do, though you get on carefully because you’re still not processing the situation. Once you hop on his back, Jay gently guides your legs around his torso and he pulls your upper body closer to his back with a tug on your sleeve. When you are secured on his back, he easily stands up.

Now you’re afraid that he can feel the way your heart’s beating against his back. There was absolutely no way he couldn’t.

“It’s easier for me if you’re like this,” he says to you. You nod even though you’re right behind him, “Stay as still as you can.”

Jay steps onto the folded piece of paper, waiting for your cousin to tell the teams that it is time to hold positions. Once she had given the signal, Jay raised his left leg in the slightest, balancing on just his right foot.

Almost immediately, your cousins fail to keep themselves from touching the ground and, somehow, you and Jay are the only ones left standing. You don't process it until it is announced.

“Congratulations to Y/N and Jay for being the first adult winners of the night!” Your cousin cheers. You notice that she has tears in her eyes from laughing as she approaches you both with the prize. A bunch of the older adults are clapping in amusement, heads shaking from the entertainment.

You quickly jump off of Jay’s back, and out of habit, you grab his hand, shaking it out of joy. You repeat a ‘we won’ a couple of times and Jay couldn’t help but beam at the string of events, watching as you receive the present for the both of you.

Jay has never in his life played party games at a family party. Sure his family was too busy to even have parties like this, but even if they did have the time to plan out a party, his family was too small for these games to even be considered fun.

And if he were being honest, this party was the most fun he’s had in so long.

“What is it?” Jay leans in close to you, trying to catch sight of whatever’s in the bag. You both have settled on the couch while the next game begins.

You pull the prize out to reveal two big bags of your favourite expensive holiday chocolate and your eyes gleam at the sight. You drop one bag and then hand the other to Jay, “Here you go. That was fun!”

Jay nods, a smile settling upon his lips. “It really was.” The adrenaline from the game is beginning to vanish and he’s coming down from his high. “Let’s play the next one?”

When it was getting late, Jay decided that it was time to leave. It wasn’t like he was leaving to escape from the party, because truly, he had spent so much time on games and picture-taking that his energy was beginning to diminish. He’d love to stay, but he knows that tomorrow, he’ll have to be back at the office doing work.

He wonders how this night will change the way you guys are in office. Surely, he’ll keep his professionalism at work, but he can’t just pass by you tomorrow and act like you didn’t willingly invite him into your home to spend Christmas with your family.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sir!” You say at the doorway, “I hope you had fun.” Jay is silent for a few long moments and you can’t help but call out to him, “Sir?”

“S-sorry, I just started getting you used to calling me by name that it threw me off,” he replies sheepishly.

“Oh… um, I’ll call you whatever you’d like.”

“When we’re out of the office, just call me Jay okay?” Jay shuffled forward and he’s closer to you now, “It’s more fitting, don’t you think?”

You nod and you huff out a large puff of air that shows up in front of you, “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then, Jay.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N,” Jay echoes. There's a lingering feeling in the cool air that engulfs the both of you. You couldn't quite put a name to it, but it was a nice feeling. It was warm. Then, before you know it, Jay finds himself giving you a hug. And not one of those half-assed side hugs, but one that you could easily tell he needed.

You hesitate at first, but then you slowly return the gesture.

After what felt like a while, he stepped back, “S-sorry I... I'm just really thankful for tonight. Tell your family thank you, too.” There’s so much more that Jay wants to say, but for now, this will simply suffice.

“It’s nothing,” you say, still slightly stunned, “I expect to see you next year, then.”

One corner of Jay’s lips jerks up and he laughs, “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

When Jay leaves, you turn back to rejoin your family, who’s looking at you expectedly.

“What?”

“Did you guys kiss?” One of your cousins joke.

You brows furrow and you burst out laughing, “Ha! No way!” What the hell was this guy even talking about? You and Jay kissing? He was your boss for god’s sake. Isn’t that like… forbidden or something?

You try to change the topic because the thought was mind-boggling and you didn’t want them to catch the way your cheeks and your ears were heating up at the thought. “He says thank you,” You say and move to sit next to them, “And I told him he should come next Christmas.”

Your mom betrays you, “As your boyfriend?” Of course she would say that.

Another laugh leaves your lips and you shake your head, “I don’t think that’ll ever happen.”

(Or so you think.)

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi

an: ughhhhhh I really love this pair (ಡ᎔ಡ) it would be soso cute to see more of them but I can'tttt I need to write the other ones,, pls leave comments cause I love hearing your thoughts!,, n e ways I hope you enjoyed this! Renjun is up next, so please look forward to his!

#Enhypen #enhypen imagines #jay enhypen #enhypen jay #park jongseong #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #jay imagines #park jongseong imagines #park jongseong scenarios #Kpop #kpop imagines #my writings #enhypen x reader #Jay x reader #Park jay x reader #Park jongseong x reader #Jay park x reader

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bedoballoons · 6 months

Note

I’m back

I’m not sure if you write wlw or nblw/gnlw or anything like that but hear me out

anyway I was thinking, imagine the (fem! Or gn!) mechanic reader (yes my genshin self insert is a mechanic and I’m delulu) with lyney or Furina, or any other characters you wanna add if you want (idk how this works). Where the characters keep breaking things on purpose just so that the reader can come over and fix it and so they get to see reader. The reader catches on and teases the character. (You can make it lead to nfsw or not if you want ;) )

also I’ll give myself an emoji so here’s mine

-💫

I do any forms of relationships as long as they aren't incest or pedophilia! I absolutely love this idea!! I think it's super cute so I hope you don't mind but I decided to make it fluffy!! Enjoy and thank you for requesting <3

P.s Can I call you the starstruck anon?

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂

{༻~Just one more thing before you go~༺}

CW: Super sweet fluff! Reader works as a mechanic and the characters keep calling them up to fix things so they can spend time with them!

(Includes: Lyney, Navia, and Furina!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney kneeled down beside you, trying his best not to get in your way as you worked on the latest broken thing in his home...he just couldn't help it. Whenever he was near you it was like his heart decided to do its own performance, beating faster and skipping whenever your eyes landed on him...because of this sometimes the simple machinery he used in his home...would mysteriously end up not working, "So how goes the fixing hmm? My apologies for having to call you out here again, usually I'd just have Freminet take a look but he's currently busy"

"Seems to me like someone's intentionally sabotaging your heater...they even left the screwdriver inside of it." You turned to him with a sly smirk playing on your features, holding the screwdriver up to him so he could read Freminets name from it. The blush that followed was so adorable you couldn't help but tease him a little, "If you wanted me to spend time with you Lyney, you could have just asked~"

𑁍༄Navia:

"I truly cannot thank you enough for coming to my rescue again. It seems every time you leave the Spina di Rosula has yet another problem to fix...of course it's not particularly a bad thing because I enjoy your company immensely." The beautiful blonde chuckled nervously, trying to get ahold of herself before she ended up confessing her feelings to you, she was honestly shocked she hadn't yet..

"I'm always here whenever you need me Navia, it's definitely not a bad thing for me. I get to hang out with a goregous woman and get VIP treatment from the Spina."

"You're always welcome to anything here at-...I'm sorry did you just call me goregous?"

"Well...I figured since you're always bringing me here to fix things you've clearly sabotaged, it's only fair a make a little advancement myself.~"

The poor girl's face heated up, you'd figured it out? How long had you known?! "I- oh my..."

𑁍༄Furina:

"I truthfully have no idea how anyone expects a archon to live under such conditions, every time I go to use something it's no longer working. If I didn't have you'd I'd surely have left this place for something better by now." Furina talked away while you worked, trying to act as normally abnormal as ever...even though inside her emotions were on a rampage. If only you knew she wanted so desperately to play the part of your lover more than any other role, she'd even sabotaged her own residence so she could see you more often.

"I actually believe I've found a solution to keep things from breaking...if the archon so wished to hear it."

She went dead silent, unable to fathom how you could possibly stop anything in her house from breaking, "The archon wishes to, even someone with my divinity can't even think how a simple human could make something no longer able to break, I'd love to see what maniac idea you've come up with."

"Its actually very easy, all I have to do is ask if you'd like to go out sometime. Then we could spend time together without you needing to break things~"

"I-i what on earth are you talking about? I wouldn't break something just to spend time with someone, I am a archon with a busy life. I don't have the time for such nons-"

"Lady Furina..."

"Yes?"

"You left your glove in the pipe."

"..."

"May I take you out on a date?"

"...yes you may..."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

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s0ulm8s · 9 months

Text

cinnamon, honey, & sage — geto suguru x human!reader

ೃ⁀➷ genre : fluff

*ೃ༄ words: 1.4k

⋆.ೃ࿔*: warnings & a/n : nothing, just fluff, girldad!geto suguru, honestly nothing too crazy or exciting just suguru going soft for a human (lmk if i should make a part two)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ read more works here ➼ masterlist

geto suguru didn't particularly look forward to having to saunter into the small bakery just a mere ten minute walk from his current residence. no, not because it was unsanitary or even that the food was bad — he simply wished to never interact with the monkeys nearby if he could help it.

they left a stench, one of greed and unworthiness. rotten and disgusting. actively seeking them out was not on his to-do list.

yet nanako and mimiko couldn't let the small place go. they loved it there. when suguru would give the girls a wad of cash and urge them to spend their day in the small city nearby — this place was always their last stop.

despite being branded as a bakery it stayed open late and sold sake, and even though the cute owner that sat behind the counter would giggle and politely refuse to sell the two girls the alcohol — she always gave them an extra pastry and let them spill their teenage gossip to her.

we bought you a scone geto-sama... but we shared it on the way home nanako would admit with a half-guilty grin but you should really try it yourself anyways! the owner is very pretty and i promise it smells nice!

he'd scoff lovingly at this, but the more the pair gushed about the owner and her sweet attitude towards his girls, it had become a recurring thought. and since mimiko had gotten sick, and inevitably passed it on to nanako — he figured the girls deserved some cheering up as they were getting better.

suguru looks up, the neon sign reads magic shop in japanese, lighting up in a pink and purple hue with the words bakery & bar underneath.

the sun was setting now and the bell to the door rings softly, alerting you from the back of the shop to a new customer. though you were open for another hour you weren't expecting many more customers on a week night.

suguru observes the small building, comfortable booths line the wall, and the ceiling to floor windows are littered with hanging plants and vines. lights dim and colorful flood his vision while soft music meets his ears. the atmosphere is nice, calming even and suguru finds himself looking for something to be displeased with. he grunts when he can't find anything.

so far his girls were right, it does smell nice. yet he hasn't seen another person yet, until he hears small padding footsteps come to the front — you must be the sweet owner who gives away free treats.

your face is pleasant and welcoming as you take in his appearance, skin a bit hot as you observe the much taller man. his dark hair is long, half tied up into a bun and the rest cascading over his shoulders. he's wearing a black button up, sleeve rolled up and tucked into casual black slacks that accentuate his figure nicely. and he is handsome. god, is he handsome.

you let the thoughts drift away as his gaze looks a bit apprehensive before slowly approaching the counter.

"hi, welcome in." you greet softly, voice melodic and sweet and he can't help but rejoice a bit that you aren't overly cheery or theatrical. "were you looking for anything specific tonight?"

he finally stops right in front of counter, gaze boring down onto you as he studies you. "yes, actually." he responds, voice low and dreamy as he scans the window with the pastries. "two raspberry muffins, three cinnamon scones, a cheese danish, and a loaf of your homemade bread."

his recitation of the order is precise and memorized, and you can't help but let out a giggle to yourself before commenting, "you must be the protective hermit who looks after mimiko and nanako, yeah?" you ask as he looks at you with a slightly shocked expression. you giggle again, and he leans a bit closer instinctively at the sound. "their words, not mine.. it's geto, right?"

he nods in confirmation, for some reason introducing himself with his full name as you do the same. at your comment he actually lets out a small chuckle, a grin finally finding his face and actually meeting his eyes before he nods, "i suppose that would be me.. i don't find myself out much, i have.. sensitivities." he admits, in the middle of his sentence realizing he hadn't even grimaced at a certain smell yet. no. you smelt nice, inviting even — you smelt of cinnamon, honey, and... what was that?... a hint of sage maybe. not too sweet or overbearing. suguru mentally slapped himself for enjoying it as much as he did. "you knew that just by their order?"

you laugh again as you nod, beginning to grab his items before speaking. "yeah, they've become some of my favorite regulars. they typically order the same things — aside from the homemade bread." you tell him, "you must not have much of a sweet tooth." you observe as he nods in confirmation. "that's okay, i don't really either.."

"yet you run a bakery?" suguru quips, letting out a small laugh as you nod.

"and bar." you correct with a smirk, "i know, i see the irony, too. but baking was something i learned to love from someone who just.. meant a lot to me." you find yourself admitting for reasons unknown. why were you so easily telling this man things about yourself?

he can almost see you inner turmoil, but he can understand your passion — loving something because someone you loved also did. it was slightly heartwarming, and he could feel his past creeping up his throat a bit. he swallows it down.

you clear your throat. "oo, i know! i have a new item i'd like you to try.. it's a taro bun but i make it with a different herbal mix, not too sweet but not too bitter. i think you might like it." you suggest, placing two of the lilac colored buns into his now large packaged box that was decorated in your logo and littered in small doodled flowers.

typically suguru would flinch and disregard anyones assumption at what he might like, yet he found himself gravitating toward you. listening intently, and he even hoped you were right. then he could come back and give you his honest review.

was he seriously searching for a reason to see you again already? tsk. maybe his girls were right, you do seem quite intriguing and magnetic. he can't believe he's allowing himself to think this way about a non-sorcerer.

"speaking of, where have those two been? i haven't seen them the last week or so — i was starting to get worried." you ponder, ringing his total up on your register. typically any pry into his life would annoy him, but your concern seems genuine and leaves him curious.

"ah, mimiko seems to have caught an illness and of course, nanako got it from her." suguru explains, and you're worried gaze finds his and he is quick to reassure you. "they're both already on the mend, don't worry. they talk a lot about this place.. and you.." suguru begrudgingly admits, "i figured this would cheer them up a bit."

your face immediately blushes at the idea that he already knew about you prior. "hmm, that's very sweet of you... here, take some tonyu with you as well. they usually get a few boxes, but they always switch up the flavors." you tell him, and he's only just now realizing how attentive you've been to them while on their own. he finds himself grateful that they were in good hands. you give him four different flavors of the drinks.

you bag all of the items together and you both find yourself a little bit desperate to spend a bit more time in the other's presences. "say, what time does your shop close?" suguru finds himself speaking before his brain can process what he's doing.

you look up at him with big eyes, almost shocked before you stutter out an answer. "i close in about.. uhh.. 13 minutes." you tell him, not realizing how much time had passed. "why do you ask?"

"any chance you'll let a customer in after close to share some sake with?" he asks next, a sweet grin painting his face as you blush wildly. how had a human woo'd him so easily?

"hmm.. only for the handsome stranger i've heard so much about." you hum to yourself as his shoulders bob a bit though his laughter. "go to your girls, i'll have our drink ready when you get back." you smile warmly, and he thanks you.

not even twenty minutes later you see his silhouette approaching, and you go to unlock the door. as you pull it open, you see a small box in his hands and realize he's brought the taro buns with him.

"i figured we could share these, and i could go ahead and give you my honest review, yeah?" he speaks as he steps inside, stopping just in front of you. his tall frame swallowing you as he leans in and you grow bit flustered. you grin. "ready for that drink?"

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru imagine #jjk suguru #jjk imagines

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nerdofthecentrey · 1 year

Text

For Them | Cha Hyun-Su x Human Reader

Genre: Fluffy, Angsty

Summary: You do what you can to protect others and get hurt in the process.

Warnings: Blood, Getting hurt, monster descriptions, normal Sweet home stuff

Unedited

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It had been 16 days since this all started, It was terrifying but you wouldn’t lose hope. You wanted to stay alive not necessarily for yourself but to be with Hyun-Su. And for Kim Su-Yeoung and Kim Yeoung-Su the little kids both you’d both saved. You were determined for them to live, even in this cruel world they still deserved a chance.

You stood next to the stairs that lead into the rest of the apartment building. Your boyfriend stood across from you with that faraway look in his eyes.

“ I hate that you have to do this.” You sighed, glancing at the beaten door.

“Don’t.”

You looked back at him and he had this dead serious look in his eyes. You understood this was for the best but you still hate the way they treat him. You wish he wouldn’t take shit from everyone.

“ Gosh, Hyun-Su..I can’t keep letting them treat you like a caged animal. I’m gonna talk to Eun-Hyeok.-“

“ Y/N, Please.” Hyun-Su rested his hand on your shoulder bring you back.

“ I’m sorry, It’s just your doing so much for everyone here…. It’s like they don’t even care. I hate that.” You pause for sec thinking before you continue with, “ It’s okay if your hurt by this Hyun-Su. Your aloud to be upset-“

“ I have to go.” He cut you off in a quiet tone ready to retreat. You snatch his face back before he can go placing your lips on his gently. Warmth fills you and you savor the feeling. You never know when it may be the last time.

You headed into the daycare center not expecting to see Eun-Hyeok. It looked like he had just gotten finished talking because everyone was dead silent. He walked straight pass you out the door you followed. But before you could even say anything he spoke.

“ The answer is no.”

You suck your teeth, “ You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

He turned.

“ I’m guessing it’s about Hyun-Su. My answer is no.” with that he walked away. You let out sharp sigh. You‘ll get him eventually just not now.

“ Y/N..?” A small voice spoke in almost a whisper. It was Yeong-Su. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed and his sister stood close behind him.

“ What’s up?” I asked a little worried.

“ Umm…” The little boy started his sister finished.

“ He wants you to come with us to get his toy. He lost it when we first got here. It’s on this floor. We just don’t want to get lost.”

Your heart warmed a little at the fact they were asking you and not someone else.

“ Of course, Shall we?” You held out your hand to the boy he toke it with a grin.

You all walked through the halls of the first floor. It’s only now you really understand how much a maze this building is. It makes your stomach turn a little at how many people actually lived here. Meaning how many lost their lives and how many turned. You guys had been walking for a little while before you could resist asking the boy.

“ Are we headed the right way?” He noded slowly showing you clear as day he was unsure.

“ Do you remember exactly where you lost it?”

“ No..” It sounded like he was gonna cry.

“ Yeong-Su!” His sister shouted forcefully pushing his hand out of his. “ You said you knew!”

“ I did know! … I thought I did.” He shouted back.

“ Hey.” You said sharply catching both of their attention. “ It doesn’t matter. We’re gonna find the toy either way. Let’s think of it like a mission okay?”

“ People who are working together shouldn’t argue and pointlessly yell at each-other. Deep breath.” You you inhale as did they. You exhale as did they. “ Now, Yeong-Su. Do you remember the area of where you left your toy?”

“ Yes, there was dirt it was in the hallway near the graves. It rolled into a room.”

“ That’s Good! I’m sure we’ll find it no time!” Before you can continue something goes off in your body. The atmosphere sudden tilting.

A bucket loudly crashed from the hall in front of you.

You push the kids behind you, cursing at yourself for not bringing a weapon. How are you constantly telling other to be prepared for anything and you aren’t even prepared. You look around for anything to use and find a short pole.

Just then you could see the shadow of a monster creeping up the hall. It’s tall and lengthy. You push the kids back the opposite way of the hall. Pushing them to run.

You knew it probably wasn’t the best idea to make loud noises but you weren’t far from everyone else. You wanted them to be safe as soon as possible being in the hallway was too vulnerable.

Just then the monster let out a loud screeching noises. You turn back just in time to see it round the corner, headed straight at you.

“ Run!” You shout. The kids pick up the pase sobs coming Yeong-Su and Su-Yeong pulling her brother along with all her might.

You grab a random cabinet pulling it down pushing multiple things in the way. It seems to slow the monster long enough for you to make back to the main area near the elevator.

Thud!

Yeong-Su fell to the floor. You quickly swept him up as fast as you.

A whimper come from Su-Yeong. Your head whipped around to see the monster creeping slowly into the room. Your heart was already pounding in your ears, your bones started to fell stif.

“ Go.” You tell them.

“But-“

“ Get the others.”

Su- Yeong didn’t wait she grabbed her brothers arm pulling him along.

You felt your body relax a little when you heard their foots steps getting quieter only for the monster to come bones cracking and stretching out with thin skin covering it. It was sickening to look at. You held up your pole knowing these we’re probably your last moments. But you were okay with that. As long as the others live.

Suddenly one of the arms came flying at you, you swung it away like baseball. Of course it only flew back but so far.

You ran closer to the main entrance leading it father into the hall.

“ Let’s go!” You yelled.

The monster seemed to let out some words you couldn’t understand. Only the word,

“ Family. ” “ I’ll do it for my family.”

The monster croaked sending his arm like tentacle thing towards you. You dodge to your left the tentacle missing you. But the sharp edge of a cabinet not.

You inhale sharply, but you can’t feel anything, not yet at least. Your whole body just feels warm and ready to move. You push yourself up from your spot grabbing onto the wall. You place your hand on your stomach to stop it from bleeding so much you fell the thick liquid coating your hand.

“ My family…my family…” The monster kept saying to itself eyes twitching. Sounding like it was trying to think or remember.

You leaned up against the pole watching the monster,

“ Hey!” A voice shouted a glass bottle was chucked at the monster it screeched in pain as it burst to flames. You jolt back from the heat your body hitting the wall feeling weak as ever. Ji-su rushing to you.

“ Oh my god, that’s a lot of blood.” She states.

“ Thanks a couldn’t tell.” You groan. Just then a loud buzzing sound rang from the door. You knew it was Hyun-Su it kept ringing violently. Till Sang-Wook opened it, you heard your boyfriend rushing down the stairs. Everyone watching the creature burn. His eyes fell on you.

“ Y/N!” He ran to you.

“ Hey.” You croaked.

He stared at you with a lost look on his face Ji-Su held you up. He had his lips parted as if he wanted to speak but he didn’t know what to say.

“ Maybe you should help!” Ji-Su shouted at him.

“ Right.” Hyun-Su said. “ I’m gonna lift you. It’s easier okay.”

He carried you to the room where Yu-ri works in. She patched you up carefully, Meanwhile you tried hard not to curse. While Hyun-Su stared with his lost eyes.

Once Yu-ri left you spoke.

“ Don’t keep looking like that.” You tell him.

“ What?”

You pause for second your heartbreaks a little, “ You look so lost. Why don’t you just share what your thinking?” Hyun-Su looks taken back but you go on.“ Hyun-Su, I won’t judge you for how you feel. I want you to tell me not keep it bottled up inside. Out of all the people still left in this word I won’t be the one to judge you.”

You watch a tear slowly falls down his face, you reach up brushing it away softly. He grabs your hand pushing your palm against his face. It’s like he said it all in that moment. More of his tears fall for the first time it’s like a wall had fallen down slowly. You watch him breakdown right in front of you. It hurt you to see. You pull his head down to rest between your neck and shoulders. Massaging his head gently.

“ I’m here, Hyun-Su.”

——————————————————————

A/N: Okay this is my first time writing anything that has so many parts to contribute in and my first Kdrama. Hopefully this is good. I might end up switching or adding more the ending. Let me know if you have any tips and/or misspellings.

#kdrama #kdrama x reader #sweet home fanfic #sweet home x reader #cha hyun su #cha hyun soo #cha hyun su x reader #Cha Hyun soo x reader #sweet home #fluff #angst #Sweet home Angst #Sweet home fluff

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grandlinedreams · 6 months

Note

Hey, um I love your works, especially the angsty-themed 😭. Anyway, here's the prompt :

We know that Law is a very private person, and he just doesn't want people to see any type of affection between him and the reader. So imagine like things get hectic, or like he's too focused on his long-term planning. He becomes cold and indifferent, and the reader is not an exception even if the reader is simply willing to help. Yes, he's a private person, but everyone already knows that the reader is his partner. His crew, or maybe the og member that is older than him, are getting uncomfortable and reminding (or rather scolding) him for his behaviour to the reader. Maybe the reader overheard their argument and gets sad because the reader has tried not to take his reaction personally, but it's not a good sign when others have enough. This ends with Law's realization that his crews support their relationship and wish the best for them, showing affection in front of them won't get him teased or even annoy his crew.

Thank you, Love 🫶

Hiya papaya!! Sorry that it's taken me so long to get to this, but I hope I can do this justice for you!!

[Heads up!: Law being a tiiny bit of a red flag, unhealthy coping mechanisms, hefty touch of angst, established relationship, hurt/comfort]

"Is that for captain?"

Looking up from where you're setting things on the tray to carry, you find Penguin watching you and you nod.

"How is he? We haven't seen much of him lately."

You hesitate. Penguin knows Law even better than you do, as do Shachi and Bepo ㅡ they're from a chapter of his life you've only ever gotten brief comments about.

"You know how he gets when he's figuring out a plan," you sigh, and Penguin nods. "I'm going to take this to him."

"You're the best at cheering him up," your crewmate calls after you as you walk away, and your fingers curl around the tray.

You wish that was true, that you had an innate knack for easing Law's burdens the way the others seem to think you do. And maybe you did, at one time ㅡ but not lately.

You can't even tell anyone that it's been days since Law even talked to you. It's been a cycle of going to bed without him, waking up alone, and swapping out plates of barely touched food and drink for new.

You know that this is what happens when he gets focused on something, have seen it before ㅡ but it hurt a little less when you weren't his partner. You know you can't expect him to immediately tell you everything, but telling you nothing isn't fair, either.

You knock, then nudge the door open with your hip. Law hasn't moved from where he'd been when you woke up, nor does he look up when you approach.

"I made grilled salmon this time," you say quietly, glancing at the carefully shaped onigiri. "And tea."

Steam curls off the top, but Law doesn't so much as glance your way. This too has not been unusual, but again, it digs the blade further into your chest.

Have you done something wrong? Surely there's more to it than just being busy for him to shut you out so completely.

You turn to leave, stilling when there's finally, finally a murmur of your name from your boyfriend. Your heart leaps, and you turn, small smile on your lips. "Yes?"

He still isn't looking at you. "Stay in the crew bunkhouse tonight. I can't afford to be distracted right now."

Maybe it'd be better if he yelled at you. If he'd be angry with you, be something with you ㅡ because the flat tone and way he still won't actually look at you hurts far worse than anything else.

"Oh," you say softly, "...of course."

You shut the door behind you, back pressed against it as you take a few steadying breaths, willing yourself not to cry. You won't, not when it will get you scolded if he finds out ㅡ so you close your eyes and count to ten, then pull away from the door.

You can do this for him, give him his space, support him from the edges of that barrier he's made around himself.

You can, and you will.

ㅡ

"Not that we aren't happy to have you here [Name], but..." Clione squints at you. "What are you doing here?"

You look up from where you're pulling back the blankets of your bed ㅡ a bed you haven't slept in for months, as your mind is so gleefully cruel in reminding you. "What do you mean?"

"He means that you're usually with captain," Ikkaku says, watching you with a look of gentle concern.

You're not sure how to answer that and you fumble, fighting hard against the flush of your cheeks. "How do youㅡ"

"You're not as subtle as you think," Hakugan chimes in. "I know captain won't say it, but we've all pretty much figured it out already. Not much you can hide on the 'Tang."

He has a point. Ikkaku is still watching you, her head tilting.

"So...is everything okay?"

You blink, fingers curling against your blanket. "Everything is fine," you say, even though it's far from it. Though they may know about your relationship, you highly doubt that Law would be pleased if they knew about any issues. "I just felt like sleeping in here, that's all."

It's clear none of them believe you, sharing a brief look as you slip underneath your blanket and roll onto your side. It's strange now, going from the comfort of a bed shared with someone to alone ㅡ but if Law needs you to do this, you can do this.

You don't sleep well, not at all ㅡ and when you've finally had enough of tossing and turning, you slip out of bed as quietly as you can, mindful not to disturb your crewmates.

Machinery hums beneath your feet as you pad down the narrow hallway, turning the corner ㅡ and nearly bumping into a firm chest.

You stumble back, balance corrected by the hand that reaches out to grip your shoulder ㅡ familiar warmth, tanned fingers stamped by familiar tattoos.

Law.

It's the first time he's touched you in the better part of a week and a half, and you almost hate yourself for how badly you want to beg for more. He doesn't even have to kiss you ㅡ just a hug would do.

You miss him.

Law's lips part like he's going to say something, but the creak of a door opening makes him tense ㅡ and reality washes over you like an icy bucket of water.

So you do what you have to ㅡ you dhrug his hand off of your shoulder, curve your lips into a smile you don't feel, and take a step back.

"Good morning, captain," you tell him, ignore how it rips your chest open to be so formal with him and slip around him to begin your own day.

ㅡ

"Did something happen between you and [Name]?"

The question makes Law tense from where he's putting away medical supplies from the latest supply run, glancing at Shachi who'd volunteered to help him. That, he supposes, should have been his first clue. Not that Shachi isn't helpful ㅡ but that he has an agenda of his own.

Law looks away. "I don't know what you mean."

Shachi huffs. "Don't play dumb, captain." He knows he's treading the line of insubordination, but there's only so much he and the others can take of this. "We know you're together."

Law stills.

"[Name] didn't tell us anything," Shachi continues. "We figured it out. So don't be mad at them."

Law is quiet, trying to process the other man's words before he says slowly, "How long have you and the others known?"

Shachi shrugs. "Couple of months." His tone softens, though it still carries an edge of scolding. "You can't just shut everyone out like that, captain. Especially not if you're in a relationship with someone."

Law wants to argue, say that he didn't ㅡ but he did. Pushed you as far as he could, made you keep your distance. He'd backtracked on months of progress, of affection and trust ㅡ and called you distracting.

Ans you'd taken it all in stride. You hadn't gotten angry, hadn't fought with him ㅡ simply nodded, smiled, and let him treat you as he pleased.

You'd let him hurt you, something he'd promised he'd never do ㅡ

"Finish putting this away for me," he tells Shachi, who watches as Law leaves the storage room without looking back, and he grins.

"About time."

ㅡ

You stir to the feeling of being carried. That's funny, you don't even remember falling asleep ㅡ but you must've, curled up on the couch with a book.

You squirm, and the arms around you tighten as your eyelids flutter. "Waking up?"

Your eyes snap open. "Law," you say, staring up at your boyfriend ㅡ or at least, who you hope is still your boyfriend. "What are you doing?"

"You fell asleep on the couch," he says, "and I'm taking you to bed before you end up with a crick in your neck from sleeping like that."

"Oh." You study the curve of black ink on his chest. "To the bunkhouse?"

"No, to myㅡ" He stops, corrects himself. "Our room."

That gives you a glimmer of hope, allows for you to snuggle further against him, which relieves him in turn. You aren't angry with him ㅡ both a blessing and a little bit of a curse, brcause you have every right to be.

As if sensing his thoughts, you sigh softly. "I'm not mad at you."

"You should be." He nudges his door open, shuts it behind him before continuing towards the bed. The bed that's been far too cold over the last couple of days without your presence.

You cling to him, even after he sets you down, coaxing him to lay next to you. "I'm not," you insist again. "Just wish you'd trust me a little more. I want to help, Law."

Your fingers brush his cheek, and he reaches to grasp them, presses soft kisses to your fingertips. "I know. I need to work on that. I shouldn't have shut you out like that, it wasn't fair to you."

You press closer. "We can work on it together," you say, lips against his collarbone, sweet kisses that make him shiver. "Right?"

"Right," he agrees softly, pulls you to him as close as he can, wraps himself around you. "Together."

#ㅡmine.#one piece scenario #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #anonymous #–ml: law.

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auteurdelabre · 5 months

Text

SOMETHING TO FIGHT FOR (series) Joelxf!reader Part 1

Word Count: 5.3K

Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no physical descriptions) Tommy x Maria, Bill x Frank

Warnings: This is saccharine slice of life with smut and a Soft!Joel. You have been warned. There is swearing, there is smut, but when it gets to those chapters you will have plenty of warning. (That is if there is interest in my story!)

A/N: This is part of a sweeter series (lots of angst, pining and smut ahead) Also despite Sarah's young age Joel is early 40's in this because slightly grey babygirl DILF Joel is the best Joel.

"Please don't make me do this."

You shoot Maria a dark look as she drags you to her wardrobe, ignoring your plea.

"C'mon, it'll be fun! Plus I need your help picking out what to wear."

She opens the gleaming wood doors with a flourish and indicates with her head for you to look. You give her a once over with her luminous dark skin, hair in tight braids and roll your eyes.

Like it matters what she wears.

Maria is stunning. Arresting. Whatever other adjectives you need to describe someone who is not only beautiful but kind, brave, opinionated, strong... and occasionally manipulative.

How else can you explain why an hour later you're seated in her car on the way to the cheapest Italian restaurant in town for a double date?

"Tommy is so cute," Maria giggles, actually giggles. "I bet his brother is too."

"Mhmmm." You stare out the window with a frown, watching the rainstorm outside. The dress you're wearing feels itchy and you wish you were back at home with a book.

But you've agreed to this: a blind date with Tommy's brother.

You haven't been on a date since Paul. Paul with the light eyes and delicate fingers. Paul who promised to love you forever and then taken off to Manhattan, leaving you with rent you couldn't cover by yourself and a heartbreak so devastating it took Maria living with you for a full two weeks to get back to the land of the living.

Six months later her basement suite is where you currently call home, a place you often find yourself laying in bed at night wondering what the fuck had happened to your life plans. Maria had always been your most successful friend, running her own business, owning this huge house all on her own. She plans on flipping it once the renovations are done.

And when she'd known you couldn't pay your rent alone she hadn't even asked you how she could help. You'd woken up from a long depression nap amidst the breakup one morning to find your belongings packed and labeled and Maria telling you that you were moving in with her.

Moving into her basement wasn't exactly how you'd imagined your life at this age. But then again you didn't expect to be single and working at your same low paying job then either. She won't accept rent money either.

She's a fucking saint.

So of course you had to say yes to this favor. Of course you had to pull on your uncomfortable dress and look your best because she’s your closest friend and because she never asks you for anything.

Maria and Tommy met during renovations at Maria's place. She told you it was an instant connection, a jolt that went through her the minute he'd come through the door to give an estimate. Tommy and Maria's relationship is new, only a few weeks. But you've never seen your friend like this, all bright and cheery and giggly. She's normally more subdued, more of a quiet observer.

Love does strange things to people you suppose.

You know it did to you not so long ago. But yours didn't have the happy ending you're sure your friends’ will.

The truth is despite your own heartbreak you are delighted for Maria. Genuine joy flows from you when she tells you about Tommy and his dark eyes and his sweet shy way of talking.

Maria backs the car into the spot, humming nervously under her breath. You scan the large windows of the restaurant hoping to catch a glimpse of Tommy. You've seen a few photos on Val's phone, but those can be deceiving.

You cell rings shrilly in your purse and you retrieve it just as Maria puts the car into park.

"Hey, just gimme a sec, I'm just getting dinner with Maria," you say as you answer the phone, glancing over at your friend. "Sorry it's my mom calling. I just need a minute if that's okay?"

"Of course," Maria says nodding solemnly. I'll meet you inside."

She hands you the car keys before running a nervous hand through her braids and heading for the restaurant. You watch her leave, holding in a smirk at her obvious nerves.

"Hi bug," your mom's throaty voice sounds out through the earpiece when you put it back to your ear. "Thought you'd want an update."

"I did yeah, thanks for calling. Did they say anything?"

Anything your mother was going to say is immediately washed out by the most obnoxious sound of "Back in Black" playing at high volume.

"The fuck - "

Your eyes go to the silver and blue truck that's pulled up next to yours in the crowded parking lot.

A man with a short beard and tousled brown locks sits behind the wheel putting the vehicle into park. The music is still blasting though, and it's no wonder you can hear him; his window is half down.

Your mom is still saying something but you can't hear her. You try plugging the ear facing the driver and pressing the phone more harshly against your temple but it's no good.

Irritation is going like lightning through your body at the actions of the asshole next to you. Another quick glance tells you he's just sitting there, his one arm slung over the wheel as he stares into space.

"Mom just a sec," you interrupt before rolling down your window and calling out to him.

"Hey!"

The man in the truck doesn't turn his head in your direction until you call out another sharp 'hey'. As he glances at you his brows lift in question.

"Turn down the fucking music! This isn't a concert."

Thinking back, you could have gone about that in a much kinder way.

You could have politely explained you were on an important call. You could have asked him nicely to turn it down. But you're so anxious about the importance of this phone call, that your manners leave you.

The man is looking at you as if he can't believe your vitriol. His dark eyes are soulful as he stares at you, unblinking. The music is still pumping in his truck, perfectly matching the tempo of your rapidly rising pulse.

"Are you deaf or just an asshole?" you shout, your hand still holding the phone to your chest, praying your mom can't hear you verbally lambasting the man next to you.

The man looks like he wants to say something back at you. A tic in his jaw flexing. He parts his mouth before clamping it shut and glaring openly at you. He jerks the key out of the ignition, the music immediately silencing.

"... in the hospital," your mother is saying.

Immediately your attention is back on her and what she's saying. You only notice the man has exited the truck when you hear the slam of its door and the heavy sound of his footsteps diminishing towards the restaurant. You're too fixated on what your mom is saying, or rather, isn't saying.

"Do they know if . . . " you trail off, not sure if you want to know the answer.

"Not yet."

The two of you lapse into a gentle silence that your mother is first to break. "Did you say you were having dinner with Maria?"

"Uh yeah," you say, still processing the information. "Blind date kinda thing."

"Good for you," she says warmly. "Go on then, bug. I don't want to keep you. Give her my love."

"I don't really want to go inside,” you admit. “Rather just stay in the car all night.”

"Enough of that," your mother chides gently. "I didn't raise a coward. Now go on. We'll chat later, I love you."

You respond similarly and place the phone back into your purse. You take a few steadying breaths, glancing at yourself in her rear view mirror and then pulling yourself from the car.

/////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// ///////

The restaurant is dimly lit with gentle cliché Italian music playing in the background. You and Maria have been coming here since college; it's a familiar haunt so it's no wonder that she set the date here. It's some of the worst Italian food in town but also the cheapest.

You come to the table to see just the two of them sitting across from one another and you feel your heart leap and sinks all at once. Did the brother not show up? Are you off the hook?

Or worse, did he see you and leave?

Maria smiles at you, her hand still in Tommy's. She nods her head at the chair beside her. "Come sit."

You do, looking nervously over at Tommy and introducing yourself. Tommy reminds you so much of a puppy dog in the best possible way; all smiles and eager energy as he greets you. He's lithe with broad shoulders he covers in a jean jacket over a white t-shirt. His face is clean shaven and his dark hair fans into his equally dark eyes. He's sweet looking, boyish and nervous.

"My brother's just making a phone call," he explains when he notices you glance at the empty seat beside him. "He'll be right back."

Relief mingled with trepidation goes through you. The waitress comes over with everyone's drinks, leaving a beer in the empty space on the table for Tommy's brother and a berry-colored glass of something in front of you.

"I got you the sangria," Maria shrugs.

"Sounds good, thanks."

You take a sip, feeling nervous as the flavor coats your tongue. The restaurant is busy tonight, not really a shock for a Friday night. You glance around, your eyes darting to Maria and Tommy before you adopt an authoritative tone.

"So Tommy, what are your intentions with Maria?"

Tommy's eyes blow wide in surprise, blinking and stammering.

“I, I uh –“

"You're so mean," Maria says as you both burst into giggles. "You're fine, honey. She's joking."

At Tommy's stricken expression, Maria pats his hand affectionately. Relief instantly floods his face.

"Couldn't resist," you say, shooting a glance at a still recovering Tommy. "If it helps, she's crazy about you,"

Tommy's face breaks into a wide grin that he shoots at Maria. "Is that so?"

Maria looks flustered, opening up her menu and pretending she doesn't hear him.

"Let's order I'm starved."

You nod, looking down at your menu with a smile. You know that tonight is going to be awkward, as any blind date with another couple would be. But you like seeing Maria smiling, you like hearing her laugh as Tommy murmurs something to her about the garlic bread. Maria has been through a lot, she deserves this. You resolve to do whatever you can to make this night go well.

"Ah, there he is," Tommy says shooting a smile at someone behind you. "This is my brother, Joel."

You look up from the menu at the figure who slides into the chair opposite you. You're ready to be as charming as needed to get through this dinner but the smile immediately dies on your face.

It's the man from the truck.

He's broad shouldered, wearing a dark green button down rolled at the sleeves. It's tight across the arms, emphasizing the width of his chest. He and his brother don't look much alike to you aside from the coloring. Joel's face is pleasant if not serious-looking with big, sad eyes. He's attractive enough, a bit older than you and seems rugged with his beard and tousled locks, threaded with bits of grey.

He seems to be doing the same mental gymnastics because he goes from looking confused to angry within a microsecond of seeing you.

So much for a pleasant evening.

Normally you would have wanted to know more about him than the vague description you'd received from Maria on the ride over, but right now you want the earth to swallow you whole. You just screamed at this guy, called him an asshole in the parking lot less than ten minutes ago. Now you have to sit here and pretend to be polite.

His eyes move swiftly to Maria who looks at him nervously.

“The infamous girlfriend,” Joel says with a small smile. “Pleased to meet you.”

“The even more infamous brother,” Maria says warmly shaking his proffered hand.

“That’d be me,” Joel says with a soft chuckle. You wonder if perhaps you overestimated how rude you’d been. Joel seems perfectly nice right now, smiling at Maria and Tommy and apologizing for taking so long on the phone. Maria introduces you to him in a tone that sounds almost proud.

The smile that Joel has been wearing immediately slides from his face and you clear your throat nervously, forcing a smile onto your face.

"Uh, hi. Nice to meet you."

He gives you a sharp nod by way of reply.He doesn't look at you for long. More a cursory glance at your face before he picks up his beer and takes a swig before turning to ask Tommy something about the job site.

Great.

You crane your neck, leaning back in your chair hoping to see your waitress in the rapidly filling restaurant. You want this evening to speed up and be over. Maybe you can order an appetizer and dash out. But you can see your waitress deep in conversation with another table of eight and know you'll be waiting a bit. You hold in a sigh as you look back at Joel Miller.

He's started peeling the label from his beer in tiny scratches. It's obvious to you that he's just as disappointed as you are that you're his date for the evening. Even if you two hadn't experienced the altercation outside you doubt he would have been your type: too serious, too hard.

Paul had been the opposite: open and funny and immediately putting you at ease.

Stop thinking about him.

You take another sip of your drink, deciding that while Joel is a shit blind date he's actually perfect for practicing on for any future dates. Ones that you may have with men who are a helluva lot more pleasant than he is.

Maria and Tommy are looking at their menus, obviously trying not to watch the two of you interact. But you can see Maria's eyes darting to you out the corner. You know that she’s silently willing you to make an effort with Joel.

"So Maria says you guys work for a construction company?" You look from Joel to Tommy.

"We own a construction company," Joel corrects, his dark eyes still glued to the label of the beer bottle he's picking at with a short fingernail.

Off to a great start.

Tommy joins in, noting his brothers' reluctance to keep the conversation going.

"Joel takes care of the carpentry and the invoicing. I'm more drywall and marketing," Tommy smiles wide and friendly at you. "We have a few other guys on the team that do the rest."

You already like Tommy. He's sweet and soft and judging by the way he's still holding Maria's hand across the table, he's very interested in her.

"Must be nice to be your own bosses," you offer, hoping that if you're complimentary that Joel won't tell them about your incident outside.

"Way better than the old subcontractor we had to work for before." Tommy takes a sip of beer, shaking his head. "That guy was such a dick."

Joel flashes Tommy a nod of agreement before looking distracted. You wonder if it's you doing it to him or the phone call he took right before this. When it's clear Joel won't be asking you anything, Tommy speaks up.

"And what do you do again?"

"I work at a humane society here in Austin," you say between sips of your drink. "The job doesn't pay great but I love animals."

You trail off noting that Tommy looks frustrated with himself. "Shit, that's right. Maria said that."

"Don't beat yourself up," you laugh. "It's not exactly the most memorable job on the planet."

Joel makes a little scoffing noise of agreement. As if his job is so much more enthralling.

You hold in a biting comment as the waitress approaches your table and this time you see her name tag reads Felicia. She's a pretty girl with bright red hair who clearly has interest in the man across from you.

"Bruschetta for the table?" Tommy asks with a glance in everyone's direction. You all nod because who would say no to bruschetta?

Felicia's eyes linger on Joel even as she takes everyone else's orders for dinner.

Good. She can go home with him for all you care. If anything she'd be doing you a favor.

The silence is back when she's gone and you can't miss the strained look passing between Maria and Tommy. You don't blame them; this entire experience feels tense and uncomfortable. Maria is subtly nudging you in the ankle with her boot, flicking her eyes from you to Joel and back again. The meaning is clear: make an effort.

Only for Maria would you suffer through this dinner. Only for Maria would you try to engage the stone-faced man across from you. You take a deep breath before forcing a smile in Joel's direction

"So, Joel, what do you do for fun?"

Joel looks as if he's getting the same amount of non-verbal grief from his brother because he straightens a bit, looking at you from under thick lashes.

"I hunt."

You cringe. Not even inwardly, you full-out wince at that. Hunting has always been one of those things you've never seen the point to in modern society. Sure, when food had to be hunted or families starved it made sense. But nowadays? It seemed barbaric.

And knowing what you do for a job, you're shocked at the lack of tact. Hobbies were a dime a dozen and that's the one he brings up?

Asshole.

He seems to notice your recalcitrance because that same cool appraisal is back on his face.

"And what do you enjoy?"

You don't miss the sarcasm in his tone betraying that he really doesn't give a fuck, but decide to answer him sincerely regardless.

"I read. I hike, I paint, I watch zombie movies."

Joel winces at that. "Can't stand 'em."

What a shock. Something else you don't have in common.

You almost feel like this entire date was devised just to make Tommy and Maria feel less guilty about being so in love and your feel a stab of resentment. Tommy seems to notice the tension building because he jumps in a little too eagerly.

"Joel plays guitar. He's really good."

"And you sing," Maria adds, nudging you again before looking at Joel and Tommy. "Her voice is so beautiful."

Both you and Joel answer almost simultaneously. "Not anymore."

Your eyes flick to one another in surprise before the meals are brought to the table by the far too peppy Felicia.

"Careful," she tells Joel with a purr. "Your plate is very hot."

"Thanks," Joel says flashing her a quick smile. You note the dimple in his right cheek when he does.

"What kind of animals come through your job?" Tommy asks, spearing a piece of chicken.

"The usual, cats, dogs, small animals like hamsters, ferrets," you list these off with ease. "With some of the other sites in we house sheep and horses."

"That would've been our dream job as kids, huh Joel?" Tommy says with a faraway smile. "Being surrounded by animals, helping 'em."

Joel gives an agreeing grunt by way of a reply, chewing his dinner with a frown. It's so obvious that he would rather be anywhere but here.

"It's not all dreamy," you answer, pretending Joel isn't even there. "I work at the main office so I barely get to see the animals. Most of the time I'm grant writing because we're so underfunded."

You frown, thinking about the difficulty of going into work knowing that you can't save every poor animal that crosses your path.

"Plus after the flooding last month the office is trashed, but there was this grant for office restoration." You talk excitedly, knowing exactly what you'll do with the money.

"Guaranteed that even if she gets the grant for the office reno's she'll put it all to the kennels they need," Maria says to Tommy but she's looking at you fondly. "That's why I love her."

You feel shy under the twin gazes of Tommy and Maria and you want to turn to Joel and scream: "See! I'm not as horrible at you thought! I'm not just a bitch who screams at people in parking lots!" but you have I'm feeling even if you did that he wouldn't believe you enough to care.

"Well, when you do get the grant, I know a great contractor," Maria says with a wink in Tommy's direction. Tommy blushes slightly in response, offering a quick nod.

"I'll definitely keep you in mind," you say to Tommy, stabbing your pasta with your fork. "Everything is so expensive to build; maybe you'll give me the 'Maria's best friend' discount."

Tommy and Maria laugh but Joel remains stone-faced.

"What about you guys?" You address them both but its Tommy you look at. "I don't know much about what you do aside from restorations like Maria's place."

"We have a few bids in this month," Tommy says through a mouthful of his chicken. "Really hoping for this one build at a military site, but the lead on it is kind of a nightmare. We worked with her once before. Needs to have constant meetings about every little thing right, Joel?"

Tommy looks over at his older brother.

"It's a good gig," Joel nods, sliding a piece of bread through the marinara sauce on his plate. "Kathleen's usually a dog with a bone, but pretty harmless overall."

He goes back to his meal, eating quickly. Tommy looks dumbfounded by his brothers behaviour.

Fuck this guy.

Yeah, you were rude to him in the parking lot. But that was just between the two of you. Now he's making it horrible for an entire table of people who are just trying their best to have a pleasant evening.

There's a faint buzzing and you watch Joel fumble for his phone, an old blackberry. He reads whose calling and excuses himself. You all watch as he leaves, heading for the exit.

"You sure he's not a drug dealer on the side?" You joke. "Last time I saw a guy react like that to a phone call he was selling weed outta his mom's basement."

Maria shoots you a grin.

"It's Sarah," Tommy replies with a glance after his brother. "It's the first time Joel's left her with a sitter that's not me."

Sarah? A sitter? Wait, Joel has a kid? That miserable jerk found someone to willingly procreate with? You don't remember that part of the information Maria gave you in the car.

"He's pretty protective of her," Tommy continues. "He's worried she may be a lot of work with new people."

With Joel as her father, you're hardly shocked. You imagine a little girl with serious dark eyes and a bad attitude.

"Has he been divorced a long time?" Maria asks, and you realize she knows very little about Joel as well.

"Almost four years, but apart longer."

You nod and the three of you eat quietly, listening to the sound of bland Italian elevator music in the background. Joel reappears a short time later, sliding into his seat as Tommy looks over.

"Sarah okay?"

"She's fine," Joel nods, his voice low and rumbling. "She just couldn't find toad."

"She has a toad?"

Joel's eyes slope over to you in irritation. "It's a stuffed animal."

"Oh."

"The sitter's a moron," Joel says to Tommy with a dark look. "Got her all hopped up on sugar."

"Connie isn't a moron, Joel," Tommy defends. "She takes care of her own mother practically full time."

You and Maria exchange a look as the brothers disagree.

"I shouldn't have left her alone with them." Joel is getting more agitated by the second; he's not even hearing what his brother is saying. "They have that old dog of theirs."

"She's fine, Joel."

"I shouldn't have come," Joel mutters as he pulls some cash from his wallet and drops it on the table beside Tommy's plate. "This was such a bad idea. Such a waste of time. I gotta go."

You say nothing, but the blood is rising in your cheeks as you stare down at your plate. You want to believe that Joel is leaving solely because of his kid, but a large part of you knows she's just a convenient excuse to cut the evening short.

"I'll see you later" Joel grumbles to Tommy before he's left the table without a backwards glance or a goodbye to you.

As he strides off you want to laugh. This entire evening has been a joke from start to finish. Tommy is shooting Maria a sheepish look of silent apology. Obviously the evening hasn't gone how anyone anticipated it would.

"I'm so sorry," Maria starts but you cut her off.

"It's fine, just exhausted from work. Mind if I just take off?"

"Of course," Maria looks inconsolable. "Just take the car, Tommy will drop me off later."

You nod, holding out a twenty to her that she won't accept. You pocket it after a brief goodbye to Tommy you head to the entrance of the restaurant. You only exit when you're sure that Joel's truck is gone from the parking lot.

/////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// ///////

You pull up to the house, thankful the rain has stopped. Maria's place is on a quiet, suburban street with identical lawns and mailboxes. She doesn't do much with the exterior of the home, but it's a nice navy blue color with bright white shutters. It feels especially welcoming after your horrible dinner.

You can't stop thinking about Joel. His miserable face and the way he practically ran out of the restaurant. You kick a rock angrily on your way up the sidewalk as you move towards the house.

"You look like Bill after Bush got elected."

Your eyes dart up to house next to Maria's. The neighbor Frank is standing there on the front porch holding a cigarette elegantly between his fingers

His home is a similar in shape and color to Maria's, but that's where it ends. Where Maria's house is plain, this house is immaculately kept with bright flowers under the windows. The door is a lacquered black and a simple green wreath hangs in its upper center. It feels sophisticated and welcoming all at once.

Frank gives you another sharp look, a smirk quirking his lips.

The first day you'd arrived at Maria's, your eyes puffy and dressed in three-day-old sweats, he'd sent over a basket of goodies with a note that simply said: straight men ain't shit, your neighbors Frank and Bill. You'd liked him straightaway ever since. He's funny and charming and never seems to be in a bad mood.

Maria has nothing but good things to say about him. Best neighbor she's ever had, according to her. You often find them on either side of the fence that separates their lawns, gossiping about things in the neighborhood. Frank always seems happy, always seems upbeat.

But right now you don't feel like being happy. You want to climb into bed and be sad.

"Just a bad night," you frown, pulling your purse further up your shoulder and moving towards your place.

"Where I come from, bad days usually call for a drink."

You've never been a drinker. You occasionally have beer with fish and chips in the summer. Hot chocolate with a splash of rum at Christmas. Sangria at dinner with a bad blind date. But you've been to Frank's before and you know that whatever they have will taste amazing.

Frank's eyes are playful as he watches you pause. You shuffle back in his direction, a wry smile on your face before you glance at his door nervously.

"Is Bill around?"

Dumb question. Bill is always around. Always frowning, always building something and muttering about elaborate anti-government theories you don't always follow but smile politely at. Bill makes you nervous, but then again, he makes everyone nervous.

"Basement," Frank smiles beckoning you with a wave forward. "If he comes upstairs I'll handle him."

You don't need much more invitation than that. You bound up the stairs to his place, placing your bag at the entryway and following him into the kitchen.

While the outside of Frank and Bill's place is beautiful, the inside is breathtaking. The color of the walls is a soft green, the wood stair railing boasts intricate details of florals and the piece de resistance is the gleaming black baby grand piano that sits in the living room.

You think about pressing one of the ivory keys as you walk by but stop yourself. Everything in this home is so beautiful, so wonderfully cared for that the thought of moving any if it, even a fraction seems cruel.

"Does Bill ever play for anyone?"

"He does." Frank is in the kitchen bringing two large wineglasses down from the shelf.

You roll your eyes. "You don't count."

"Rude," Frank says with an arched brow, but there's no power behind it. "If I get him liquored up enough he might be persuaded to play for an audience of more than just me."

You watch him pour the crimson liquid into the dual glasses before handing it to you. You follow him to the sitting room by the piano, your eyes glancing longingly at it.

"It's a Beaujolais," Frank says sitting across from you as he swirls his glass with the finesse of a professional sommelier. "Very fruitful with a few smoky notes."

You twist the delicate stem between your fingertips and peer into the glass. "Looks . . . Red."

Frank laughs at your unrefined palette. He and Bill and wine connoisseurs, their home stocked with all manner of wine and other spirits.

"You look especially dressed up," Frank offers warmly at the wine slips over your tastebuds. "Hot date?"

"If my date tonight is any indication of what's out there, I think I might just stay single forever."

"Was he really that bad?" Frank's handsome face is concerned.

"He's a grey sprinkle on a rainbow cupcake."

Frank laughs loudly, his head tossed back. You smile around your wine glass, secretly pleased you could elicit such a response.

"Was he cute at least?"

"No," you answer a bit too quickly.

Frank looks about to reply when the door to the basement is shoved open with a bang.

A stout man with shoulder length brown hair and a scraggly beard looks around the room wildly blinking, as if his large blue eyes are adjusting to the lights.

He's wearing an old grey sweatshirt, threadbare with holes in the collar. He's such a stark contrast to his husband whose facial hair is meticulously groomed, his patterned orange shirt pressed and smelling like expensive cologne. If you got close enough to Bill you know he'd smell like sweat and oil from whatever he's been working on downstairs.

Bill approaches you both, his eyes sliding to your figure at the table and frowning, the crease between his brows deepening. You raise your hand in a small wave.

"Evening, Bill."

"What are you doing here?" His eyes drift to your wineglass. "And is that my wine?"

"Manners," Frank warns with a teasing lilt. "And last time I checked, Bill, it was our wine."

"Yours and mine. Not hers," Bill grumbles as he lumbers over to the kitchen to pour himself a glass.

You assume he'll head back downstairs but he shuffles to the table and plops down next to Frank, the chair squeaking under him. Sitting next to each other they seem like such an odd pair, and yet when Frank absently moves hair behind Bill’s ear and they look at one another smiling softly, you think there has never been a couple better matched.

"Our girl here finally went out on a date," Frank says like a proud father.

"A blind date," you explain with a wince. "And a bad one. Almost makes me remember Paul fondly."

At least Paul had never insulted and then walked out on you in the middle of a crowded restaurant.

"Paul," Bill scoffs into his glass, shaking his head. "Idiot man-child."

You smile at this, appreciating Bills acerbic tone when it's directed at a common enemy. You take this moment of unexpected civility and indicate to the piano with your wineglass.

"Hey Bill do you think you'd ever play for me?"

Bill turns his hardened gaze on you.

"Not a fucking chance."

#fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller #fanfiction #dad joel miller #smut #pedro pascal

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seokgyuu · 10 months

Note

hello mitchie beloved 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️ how abt joshua and consensual free use/somnophilia <3 i'm in dire straits rn and i actually need to get used by this man for his own pleasure 24/7 🫶 /hj

++ hugs and kisses for being one of the sweetest people ever actually !!

A/N: kai, my beloved! i hope this is to your liking! thanks for the request, i loved writing it!! sending you love and hugs and kisses back <3

PAIRING: Joshua x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Smut MDNI!

WARNINGS: free use/somnophilia, fingering, unprotected sex, degradation (usage of the word slut) creampie

WORDCOUNT: 1.4k

Request are open! Check out my 1k special!

Smut under the cut

the thought of your boyfriend using you for his own pleasure has always been one that extremely excited you. joshua was sweet, a true angel most of the time. funny and kind and always trying to make you feel good, to take care of your needs before his own. for the longest time you felt almost ashamed of wanting him to use you whenever he wanted, but at some point you decided that the worst thing that could happen would be him saying he wasn’t really into that. and you’d be fine because it wasn’t like your sex life wasn’t fulfilling enough.

what you had not expected was him growing beet red, his eyes wide in something like shock when you tell him. he is baffled, speechless really. and it takes him a few minutes to regain his composure. you smile at him, caress his hand and reassure him that it is just a thought. he is not obligated to act on your wish if he doesn’t feel comfortable. when he asks you what exactly you mean when you say whenever he wants, your answer makes him swallow. it makes his cock twitch in his underwear. it makes his mind go wild with thoughts he normally wouldn’t allow himself to have. you were his princess, his everything, so precious and good. you deserved to be pampered, to be treated like a queen. never would he ever allow himself to… but now this. now you’re telling him you want him to use you and it begins a process in his brain.

a few days go by and you think joshua might just not be into it. and you’re cool with that. you go through your day as you usually do until one evening you come home from work and joshua is sitting at the dining table with his laptop and work notes scattered around. he looks up at you when you enter the room and gets up, his ears as red as his face a few days ago.

“baby,” he begins, his hands finding your hips and he kisses you once, twice, before placing his forehead against yours.

“josh, what is it?” you ask, worried, one of your hands cupping his cheek. he licks his lips.

“what we discussed the other day… about me and you and…,” he looks at you and you know what he means, a small smile on your lips as you nod.

“well i was thinking … do you- do you really mean it when you say i can use you when you’re asleep?”

your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but you are quick to nod. just the thought of it alone makes your cunt clench.

“yes, honey, i mean it. i really… really would love for you to use me when i’m sleeping, or… any time at all, really. just want you to feel good, joshy.”

your sultry voice and the way you look at him almost make him bend you over the table, doing as you wish right there. but there is still a report he needs to finish and so he just nods, kissing your cheek with a semi hard cock in his pants before sitting back down.

he lays awake that night while you’re sound asleep. he had been worried you might not be able to sleep after what you’d discussed but here you are now. soft and cute snores proving you are really gone, one hand tucked under your cheek while the other lays flatly on the mattress. you are laying on your side, your backside turned to joshua and he contemplates. his cock has been hard for hours he feels. his heart is beating rapidly, even echoing in his ears and he thinks back to the words you had said a few days ago as well as tonight. you want him to use you. want him to feel good. so you would definitely be okay if he-

he finds himself pressed against your ass five seconds later. his cock is right there between your cheeks, still behind his boxers, but, god, does it feel good. he moans quietly, one hand moving to the front of you, touching your tit over your (his) sleep shirt. he wonders if your nipple will harden when you touch it. another moan escapes his throat when it does. he lets his hand slide underneath your shirt, thumb and index twirling your nipple, his cock growing even harder against your backside. he kisses the back of your neck, licks the spot underneath your ear and finally moves to touch you between your legs.

joshua loves your pussy. loves it so much he literally can’t get enough of it. ever since your first conversation about this topic, he hadn’t touched you, so he’s a little scared of coming sooner than later. still, he feels your folds underneath your panties, letting a finger get coated in your juices to eventually push it inside, your tight walls clenching around him right away. he groans again, beginning to rock his hips against your ass, the friction making his eyes roll back. he ruts against you, free hand getting his cock out to actually feel your skin against his hard length and, fuck, it feels heavenly. he soon adds another finger, stretching your cunt open, letting it get adjusted before he’d finally sink into you and fuck you until he filled you to the brim.

“so good for me even when asleep… my perfect princess,” he whispers, softly shoving you onto your stomach, leaving your cunt open for him to access. he licks his lips, lets his hand pump his cock a few times, before finally pulling out his fingers and replacing them with his leaking cock.

the moan he lets out when he feels you around him almost wakes you up. just almost. your body reacts accordingly to what is happening - your pussy sucking him in as it always does, dripping onto the sheets as if your subconscious knows how fucking hot you find this. it probably does. joshua bottoms out, his hands are on either side of you, his hips rutting against your ass, cock now going in and out of your pussy in a speed that has him see stars.

“f-fucking hell, such a good, perfect pussy, sh-shit,” he can’t keep his voice or his noises down and it doesn’t come as a surprise that you wake up with arousal shaking your whole body, all sleepiness gone within mere seconds. you cry out, your hands gripping the bed sheets as your cunt clenches around joshua’s cock over and over again.

“j-josh!” you whimper and he looks down at your face, sees your eyes staring at him, the hotness radiating from you. something inside of him shifts and his angelic demeanor disappears once and for all as he moves one hand to push your head into the mattress, his thrusts getting harder.

“such a slut, wants to get used like a toy doesn’t she? wants her cunt to be nothing but a cumrag, wants to wake up in the morning with it still dripping out of her, fuck,” he hears your cries against the mattress, feels you coming on his cock, the waves of pleasure almost getting him off the edge too.

“o-oh my god- j-josh, don’t stop!” you know there is more, know he can make you come at least one more time and joshua picks up his pace again, letting off your head and instead wrapping his arm around you to press his thumb down on your clit, your whole body jerking as you arch your back.

“what a good slut i got myself, such a good filthy slut, isn’t that right?” his eyes can’t stay open anymore, his hips moving at an uncontrollable speed and the second you cry out that, yes, you are nothing but a filthy slut, his cum shoots out his cock and into you, his moans music to your ears as he gets you over the edge once more, fucking the both of you through your orgasms.

josh collapses on top of you, heavy breath against your ear and you feel sweat rolling down your forehead. your pussy is still pulsating around his softening cock and joshua jerks forward once again, kissing your neck.

“you’re incredible,” he mumbles against your skin and you chuckle, turning your head so you could see him a little better.

“i know,” you grin back and joshua laughs before pulling out of you and going back to his angelic self, walking to the bathroom to get you a warm wet cloth to clean yourself up.

#seventeen smut #svthub #joshua smut #hong jisoo smut #joshua hong smut #svt smut #joshua x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fanfiction #svt fanfiction #smut #joshua x you #joshua x yn

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ticktokrobotsnot · 10 months

Text

Vapor

This is Part 2

You can read Part 1 here.

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader

Summary: An accountant helps Carmen organize his not-so-shit-restaurant and gets invited over for family dinner.

Word Count: 10k

The sky was blood orange and the reflection on the store window was mesmerizing. Y/n was supposed to be in the office getting ready for the full day ahead of her but she couldn’t resist slacking off for a bit, it was nice to finally enjoy the restaurant with no one inside. Y/n needed to be here early when a potential vendor came by to give some quotes. Carmen’s initial reaction was to stand his ground and act like some faux bodyguard because he couldn't fathom why some “sick fuck” would want to be alone with a woman in a restaurant at the ass crack of dawn without them having bad intentions—said it wasn't safe at all. Y/n had to inform him that the, “sick fuck” was a woman. And as soon as Carmen heard that, and realized they were going to be talking numbers for a while, he ran off to the farmer's market, wanting no part in that snooze fest.

Y/n grabbed her laptop and started reviewing the binders she organized. Just as y/n was about to check her phone for any messages, she heard a knock at the door. A pretty blond woman looks at y/n with a bit of confusion. This woman wasn’t expecting to see y/n and y/n wasn't expecting to see this woman. Y/n walked to the door and opened a crack.

“Who are you?” Y/n questioned.

“I could ask you the same thing.” The women laughed but y/n wasn’t finding this funny.

“Natalie…” Y/n shook her head like a bouncer sending a teeager away without his fake ID.

“Natalie Berzatto.” She clarified and y/n recalled the name as a co-signer for The Beef, now The Bear. Y/n opened the door a bit more to let her in.

Y/n gave her name but she didn’t know what else to say but Natalie was already filling the space.

“Hi! It’s so nice to finally meet you, Carmen won't stop talking about you. You really saved our asses. Especially with the file organizing stuff, I found the old payroll stuff in like a minute, you're a real savant with stuff like that. Carmy is a real sticker for cooking but he is a real shit-”. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Natalie was nervous.

Y/n knew that Natalie was a part of Carmen’s family but she didn’t know how they were connected. One plausible scenario was that she was Micheal’s widowed girlfriend or wife, which would explain why anyone would co-sign the disaster that Micheal had created and promptly left. Y/n wondered why Carmen would be getting so chummy with his widowed sister-in-law, but then again men have done worse.

Y/n bit the bullet, “How do you know Carmen?”

“I'm his sister… Sugar?” Y/n was starting to feel like a real idiot for not being able to piece these easy deductions together, she was losing her edge because it was to fucking early in the morning.

“Yes, Richie told me that “Sugar” was going to stop by this week. What can I do for you?” Y/n didn’t mention that she thought Sugar was going to be a stripper because of the name.

“Actually I came to pick some old tax stuff… Micheal’s tax returns.” Y/n guided her to the office. Even if she didn’t look back she knew that Natalie was spying on her binders and laptop laid out on the counter, trying to find out a bit about y/n.

“So, Carmy tells me that you two used to work together back in New York.”

“Yeah it was only for a few years.”

“Were you close?” Natalie probed.

“We were…strangers at best.” Y/n chose to leave out the messy parts of her and Carmen’s origins.

Natalie shook her head in disbelief. "That can't be true, he actually came to my place one day, pretty late. You know why?" Y/n, not knowing the answer, simply shrugged her shoulders.

"He said he needed to make an important phone call, someone from his old job. He said that he wanted to ask for a bit of help." Natalie continued, her voice tinged with wishfulness "I thought maybe he was finally going to therapy or something." Y/n felt a strange sensation, like she was staring directly into the sun, hope gave Natalie a beautiful glow.

Natalie's smile softened as she added, "And you know what? He made that phone call right on our porch." Her words carried a touch of warmth. "Well, at least he's reaching out for help. It's a good thing, right?"

“I recommended therapy to him too but I think we would need to put a gun to his head for him to actually go." Natalie let out a humored exhale.

There was a lull of silence after she handed the tax returns. Y/n could sense that Natalie wanted to talk some more so y/n directed her to the bar stools out front. She checked her phone and saw that her vendor had a family emergency and needed to reschedule. After shooting a quick ok, she directed herself to face Natalie.

"You can ask me anything. I've got plenty of time to kill." Y/n offered, feeling generous considering the recent kiss shared with Natalie's brother just a week ago.

“I was here a few times but I never had a chance to meet you?”

“I was probably apartment hunting.” Natalie looked like she was debating asking her next question.

“What did you think of Carmen when you guys were back in New York?”

“He was like every other chef.”

“Nothing else? No pulling force?”

“No pulling force.”

“You moved state lines for him and you're saying there was no pulling force?”

“He asked me for help and I gave him some.”

“You chose to stay. There had to be a pull.”

“The restaurant spoke to my soul, I had to stay.” Y/n was bluffing.

“Bullshit, there was a pull.” Natalie said with a self fulfilled smirk like she had won a point in their imaginary game.

Natalie continued, “You know, he won a Michelin star. A man who cooks…is not too bad.”

“I don’t eat gourmet food. It’s pretentious.” Y/n didn’t want to make too much out of the kiss and make Carmen panic.

“I'm sure he can make something you will like.”

“I have yet to eat something of his that would warrant him having a Michelin star.”

“You don’t like his cooking?”

“I don’t like anyone’s cooking.” Natalie couldn’t come up with something else. Point to y/n. A smile spread across y/n’s face and Natalie was relieved to realize that y/n wasn’t being serious.

“What do you like doing?” Natalie probed.

“I spend most of my time working here but I also read.”

“Why did you leave New York?” Natalie blurted out.

“I don’t like working with other people, my boss was all over me. I thought Chicago would be a nice change of pace.”

Y/n saw Natalie unlock her phone to respond to a text from someone named Pete, who had a pink heart near his name. Y/n knew that memorizing people’s passwords was an invasion of their privacy but it was fun to be a bit nosy.

Y/n was also tired of getting the third-degree, she was hoping for a few fun questions asking if she ever murdered anyone or if she ever was contacted to be a part of a bank heist. She would be lying if she wasn’t a bit afraid that whatever she said would be relayed to Carmen so she didn’t want to say anything too damning.

“You read romance?” Y/n saw the book peeking out of Natalie’s bag, it was one that she had read before.

“Yeah, they’re my guilty pleasure.”

“Mine too. I liked that one.” Y/n pointed at the book peaking out.

“I hate it, it's filled with miscommunication. I’m only finishing it to justify the 12 dollars I spent.” Natalie said with a fake pout.

“I love miscommunication because I suck at talking to people too. Much better than the one I just finished.”

“What killed your book?”

“Third-act break up.” Natalie nodded her head, it seems like they agreed.

Y/n couldn't help but feel relieved; while the nature of Y/n's relationship with Carmen remained uncertain, it was evident that Natalie would become a more integral part of the restaurant. Carmen's recent discovery of three hundred thousand dollars hidden in tomato cans had sparked ambitious plans for renovating the place. Even if she ended up being nothing serious with Carmen, she needed to secure a stable support who wouldn’t completely hate her if shit hit the fan.

They continued to talk about a few books that they had read, a few so trashy that they had to hide their faces in embarrassment from each other when reading the summary out loud.

The door chimed and both women looked over to Carmen who was holding a few bags of produce and baked goods. Y/n went over and plucked the receipts for the top of one of the bags, she didn’t bother helping Carmen because he wouldn’t have let her help anyways. Carmen was gracious enough to put all the receipts together so she wasn’t digging to find them, she kept a record of them to write them off as a business deduction.

“Nat, you’re here early?” Carmen spared a glance before opening a box of croissants to share and then disappearing to the kitchen to put everything away.

“Yeah I had to pick something up, y/n was so kind to help me so early in the morning. Isn’t she just the best?”

“Yeah…How did it go with the vendor?” Carmen mindlessly mumbled while busying himself with a notebook of recipe ideas.

“Rescheduled.” Y/n didn’t look up, engrossed in cataloging some expensive mushrooms for record keeping. $268.43 for some mushrooms was honestly so ridiculous y/n needed to squint to see if she was seeing this right.

“I need to return the favor.” Natalie started.

“It was just a few folders, you really don’t-”

“Why don’t you join us for dinner on friday?” Y/n felt like she was performing front and center.

“I couldn’t-.”

“Please, Pete never wants to talk to me about…” Natalie was raising her eyebrows in the most unsubtle way possible so she didn’t expose y/n's softer side and her penchant for reading romance novels. Y/n couldn’t help but hide her face in embarrassment, “Yeah…fine. Just tell me what time.”

Observing the exchange, Carmen couldn't help but wonder if this was how dogs felt when humans engaged in their own incomprehensible conversations.

Y/n was starting to feel like she was edging closer and closer to Carmen’s limit. Kissing in the back alley of a restaurant and on the car ride to and from work was very different from being invited to his sister’s house for dinner. It carried a weight of intimacy, commitment, and solidity that made Y/n slightly uneasy, wondering if this was too much for Carmen. She waited for the other shoe to drop, Carmen would subtly show his discontent by telling Natalie that she shouldn’t force y/n to go to that dinner, which was just an excuse to create some distance. Y/n was surprised when Carmen asked what type of desert he should bring instead.

Y/n kept her cool and excused herself to go to the office so she could get back to work.

Carmen and Natalie moved to the kitchen where Carmen would experiment for a bit. Natalie sat on a stool next to Carmen who started washing produce.

“She is very smart.” Natalie whispered. She took a glance at the closed office door.

“Yeah. Great with the books.” Carmen peeled and diced some garlic.

“Nice too.”

“She is very nice.” Carmen started cutting some nepitella. The additional “very” caused some alarm bells to ring in Natalie’s head. She hid her smirk.

“Everything about her is nice,” Natalie made sure to pay close attention to Carmen’s face, “Nice personality, nice face-” Carmen took a worried glance at the office door and then looked up at Natalie with wide eyes.

“Why, why, what are you-?” He was flustered.

“I’m just sharing my observations. You don’t think she has a nice face-?”

“This is a business, we try to keep professional.” Carmen hid his fumble with fake professionality, unfortunately Natalie saw right through it.

“Try?” Natalie teased. Carmen looked away to pretend to look for some dried porcini. He felt like an idiot. He understood why people used to see him as an easy target when he was younger, he basically showed everyone his buttons, and asked them to get pushed. Carmen continued to chop in silence.

“I'm sorry, I just got a bit excited. I won't push.” Natalie gave her brother the benefit of the doubt, she always thought he would never get into a serious relationship but he liked y/n and y/n seemed like the serious girlfriend type. Natalie couldn’t help but nudge Carmen in the right direction.

Carmen chopped in silence for a few minutes, debating if he should tell Natalie about the kiss. In his mind, he didn’t know if it was too soon for him to introduce his girlfriend to his family. Calling y/n his girlfriend felt unreal, past him wouldn’t believe it even if he saw it.

He handed his notebook to Natalie so she could read measurements to him, he wanted her here for just a bit longer till he gained the courage to tell her about y/n.

Tagliatelle with porcini mushrooms was the first test item of the morning, and he had to soak the dried porcini for 30 minutes, he was bummed that the market didn't have the fresh kind but he knew he would get the real shit when y/n got a hold of that vendor. He looked up at Natalie and tilted his head to indicate that they should leave. Carmen avoided the alley because he knew that y/n would look there first and he didn’t want her to overhear anything. They walked over to a nearby supermarket and started roaming the aisles. It was nearly empty because it was six in the morning.

“I did something…and I need you to not…just listen and don’t make it a big deal.”

“I got it, Carmy.”

“A while ago, I…” Carmen looked at all the different types of instant noodles they had on display. “So, we were in deep shit with these pre-orders and I was a mess and y/n and I were talking after…” Carmen moved over to the boxed pasta, he didn't intend to buy anything but he did read the nutritional facts.

“I umm, asked her to…” Jesus, Carmen wondered, why he didn’t make more friends so he didn’t have to talk to his older sister about something like this. Richie didn’t seem capable of giving any advice that wasn’t, “Just Do It”.

“We ki…” Natalie kept her face hard but the second that Carmen turned around to look at a box of elbow pasta, she couldn't help herself but let out a small, barely audible squeal of delight. Her eyes widened, and a grin threatened to break through her determined facade. Natalie quickly covered her mouth with her hand, trying to contain her elation, making sure not to let Carmen catch a glimpse. She stifled her excitement with every fiber of her being, preserving the illusion of calmness for when Carmen turned back around, none the wiser.

“It’s been a while, and we k…” Carmen didn’t know how he was supposed to maturely ask for advice when he couldn’t even say a kiss in front of his sister while cringing. Carmen couldn’t do this, it was too open, too vulnerable.

Nat cut him some slack and started asking questions instead, “Was it a one time thing?” Carmen subtly shook his head no. Her lips parted as she squeezed a jar of Pego to contain herself.

“Do you regret it?” Carmen didn’t respond but that didn’t mean no, that ment that she was getting closer to the root of the problem.

“Do you think she’s going to regret it?” Carmen’s shoulder’s raised slightly, bingo.

“Why don’t I gauge how she is feeling at dinner.” Nat knew he was about to run away from her for exposing too much and she had to give him an incentive to not follow his instincts.

She continued, “We talked earlier, she said she hates your cooking.” Carmen’s head snapped up, Nat knew that y/n was just joking but it was still a bit funny to mess with Carmen.

The look of shock transported her back to when she was eight sitting next to Carmy and watching Micheal convince him to finish a glass of milk or else he would lose all of his teeth to a calcium deficiency. This wasn’t the time to reminisce but it made her heart warm knowing that even after going through so much, there was still a part of young Carmy that persevered. She was feeling the burning in the back of her eyes, her hormones were making her sentimental.

“Yeah she said that your food fucking blows.” Carmen caught on and let out a small laugh.

They both roamed in the aisle moving on to juices. Sugar free, diet, pineapple, orange. Carmen’s eyebrows raised when he saw the price of orange juice before putting it down and deciding to just make his own.

Carmen started, “She isn’t the type of person who changes her mind easily,” but if she can make that shift to see him in a good light, maybe she'll stick around and eventually see the real Carmen—a pathetic, insecure loser. All he did was make a promise to her but he knew it meant nothing without actions, and he was unsure if he could control his anger or keep his obsessiveness in check when something especially difficult happened. If another shit storm made its rounds in the kitchen, would he really be able to be the bigger person? Carmen doubted it.

Carmen just ripped off the bandaid, “I don’t know how to…I want her to not hate me. I know I'm going to..” Carmen waited till a child next to them moved to the other end of teh aisle towards his dad, “..fuck it up, but I dont want that to happen.”

“What makes you think she is going to hate you?”

“When we were talking…she told me that I should have done better. And that I…needed to be “stable”, but I don’t know how to be that for myself, let alone someone else.”

“She isn’t asking you to do it for her, she wants you to do it for yourself.” Natalie offered.

“Its like having to solve a word search to answer a stupid fucking puzzle. I don’t…” Carmen sighed in defeat. Nat knew that he was strong and it was impossible for her to fix this for him but that still made her palms itch seeing him struggle like this. She racked her brain, desperately seeking any glimmer of a solution that could offer him even a shred of relief.

They both walked out the market towards the restaurant. “It's really hard…and it's not that I don’t want to, it just feels impossible.” Carmen muttered, he was close to giving up.

A burning sensation welled up in the back of Natalie's throat, and she instinctively placed her hand on Carmen's shoulder as a gesture of support and to her surprise Carmen looked at her, saw her glassy eyes and hugged her. The shock knocked a few tears from her eyes..

Carmy was not a selfish person but Nat noticed that he was becoming a bit more aware that he takes up much more space then he originally thought he did. He now knew that his presence was big enough to be able to tear people down but was also big enough to offer meaningful support. He had come to understand his own significance, and this realization struck Natalie like a tidal wave, causing her to burst into uncontrollable sobs.

“Does crying mean I'm fucked, Sugar?” Carmen asked, his voice tinged with humor and uncertainty, as he gently rubbed Natalie's back for comfort. Nat shook her head no.

“You'll be okay. You always are.” Nat wiped her face before continuing to walk back to the restaurant.

Carmen snuck a few glances to see what was making his sister a sobbing mess, she wasn’t the type to break down like that, “Are you good?” Natalie nodded her head.

“Everything good at home?” It felt strange to say the word home, even after visiting multiple countries and living in many different apartments, Carmen couldn’t really call any place home. Home was supposed to be a sanctuary of warmth, Carmen's closest experience to that feeling was back in his family house—a place where the warmth was scalding and suffocating. Where it was a constant waiting game, anticipating the intense heat to escalate and cause everything, and everyone, to boil over.

Carmen was acutely aware that he would never have a home quite like Sugar's. He couldn't help but wonder if he had what it took to be like Pete for someone else—always helpful, kind, and perhaps a little too accommodating. He questioned whether he had the capacity to fulfill that role and maintain his own sense of self. Granted, what about his “self” was worth preserving?

Natalie nodded her head but Carmen wasn’t convinced. “It's just a lot, you know. Seeing the place getting renovated. I used to hate that place, but..” She sighed, “...I picked up Micheal’s tax returns, I didn’t even need them for anything…I just wanted to see them to know what he was going through towards the…'' end. She didn’t need to finish for Carmen to know what she was talking about. They were in front of the restaurant and Carmen gave her a side hug and against his better judgment he tried his hand in verbal reassurance so he could be there for her, fully.

“I think he tried his best to make everything look fine, and it’s nice to know that he was at least able to pretend till the...end.” Sugar looked up at him and didn’t comment on his successful attempt to be her support, not wanting to scare him.

They wordlessly walked in the restaurant and Carmen finished up his dish. He made enough for one plate because he was expecting to have to remake it a few times. He grabbed a small plate and served a separate plate for y/n before knocking on her door. She looked up at him, not hearing him and gave him a “hmm” which echoed in his chest. She sat with them in the kitchen, taking her laptop with her. They all took the first bite together. Carmen watched both women’s reactions to gauge their uncensored reactions. Natalie’s eyebrows raised and she gave him a nod of approval.

Y/n took a bite and looked up from her plate so see Carmen staring at her. “Why are you staring?”

“Do you not like it?”

“It’s good.” Y/n put her fork down and propped up her head on her hand.

“But, you didn’t-”

“I’m not really a foodie, so food is never like…” Y/n made an explosion sound and flicked her hands open, “Good, is the best you going to get out of me.” Natalie wondered how a chef and an anti-gourmet foodie were going to work.

“Is all food just ”good”?” Y/n looked up and tried to think of food that was better than good.

“I like mom's cooking.”

“What is her food like?”

“Intense…subtly in food doesn’t mean anything to me because I don’t taste the difference.” Carmen was waiting for more for y/n.

“I ate a lot of spicy, sour and bitter food growing up. My mom didn’t think that kids should eat different things than everyone else, so I guess pasta and mushrooms will always be just “good”.” Y/n felt like she was just shitting all over his profession but he asked for her opinion so he couldn’t get offended now.

Carmen nodded his head before walking away. Y/n pierced her lips and looked over to Natalie wondering if she hurt Carmen’s feelings. Natalie looked just as bewildered. Just as y/n was about to find Carmen, he came out with a few more ingredients.

“What are you making?”

“Something you will like.”

“I liked what you made-”

“Good is not enough.”

“Come on, Carmen, it's something that everyone will like, it’s going to kill opening day.”

“But you have to like it.” Y/n sighed before indicating that he should continue.

“You won’t be able to serve the food I like to eat, it would be considered a biological weapon.” Y/n was warning him but Carmen thought she was teasing him. He would learn to listen to her warning in the future. He put the porcini mushrooms to the side before getting started on some penne all’arrabbiata.

Y/n laughed at him knowing that he wouldn’t have the courage to spice up a dish to her standard before grabbing her laptop so she could get some work done and also talk to Natalie about contractors.

While Carmen chopped and stirred, y/n subtly glanced up at his flexing back and strong arms. She thought she was hiding it well but when she went to check if Natalie noticed she saw that Natalie was already watching her. Natalie snickered as y/n hid her face behind her laptop to hide her embarrassment. Carmen turned around to see what was so funny but was just met with the view of both of them with their faces hiding behind their hands.

Y/n felt someone pass behind her and knew it was Sydney without having to look up. “Hey guys, what are we making?” She took a bite out of the pasta, which was slightly cooled but she still nodded her head.

“It’s fire, chef. It would be great if it was hot, I want to remake it to see what it was supposed to taste like.”

Y/n couldn’t say that she completely forgave Sydney but y/n did respect that she went to Richie to give some type of apology after a while. Y/n could accept that the two of them wouldn’t be best friends, they just needed to be able to work together.

Y/n went to Carmen’s locker before pulling out a few Tums for everyone, it looks like today was going to be pasta day because of her and she didn’t want to send everyone home with a stomach ache.

Carmen continued with his pasta, and served it in front of y/n. All the women took a bite,

“It’s got a kick to it.” Natalie said while reaching for a food container filled with water while wiping sweat from her brow. Sydney gave Carmen a, “This is fire, chef.” Y/n couldn't help but cringe inwardly at the comment because she knew she couldn't quite match their shared vernacular and the ease with which they expressed themselves with food. What private passion did y/n and Carmen share?

Carmen stared y/n down as she took a bite.

“It’s good.” Carmen waited for her to elaborate. “It’s too subtle.”

Carmen smirked, “Yeah, next time I'll just make you a ball of fire for you to enjoy.” Y/n gave him a shit eating grin, it was just too fun not to mess with him, and when she saw him smile back she felt a bit of imaginary nostalgia, this was what she longed for back in New York.

The restaurant was still closed for renovations and after a while a few other crew members came by to do some demo. Y/n was stuck on hold with the inspector's office when she was approached by Natalie, “I’ve got a doctor’s appointment so I've got to go, I’ll see you on Friday at eight.”

The rest of the week flew by because they were on a very strict time crunch to open in a few months. Y/n wasn’t very worried but she could feel the nerves from everyone else and she knew it would be in bad taste to tell them to toughen up, so she let them be grown ups and deal with their own anxieties.

On Friday, y/n left early to get ready for dinner, she opened an old moving box and pulled out a dress that she wore to an old work function. It was very tasteful because it was freezing outside. Y/n grabbed her gifts before running into Carmen’s car. Y/n took one look at Carmen and had to do a double take to make sure that she went into the right person’s car. Carmen’s hair was lighty slicked back, probably with pomade, and he was wearing a deep blue sweater with a white collar.

“I didn’t know you had clothes other than aprons and Dickies.”

“You look..” Carmen marveled at the way her eyes sparkled with an inner radiance, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. He knew he wasn’t able to get the full picture yet because they were in a dark car but he could only imagine what she would do to him when they went to the well lit house. “..great.” Carmen wanted to punch himself for being so unoriginal but he couldn’t focus on anything.

“Thank you, you look good too. Blue is definitely your color..” Carmen’s fingers loosened around the steering wheel, compliments had always made him uneasy; he spent the majority of his life trying to make himself as small as possible and now he was pushed into the spotlight and he wondered if he even liked it?

“Carmen, can you look at me for a second?” And when he swiveled his head towards y/n, she squished his face lighty before giving his puckered lips a soft kiss. Just as she was about to lean back into her seat, Carmen, unable to resist, slipped his hand beneath her hair, grasping the back of her neck and drawing her in for a deeper, more passionate second kiss.

Yeah, he liked it.

“We are going to be late.” Y/n whispered before giving him one last peck. Carmen, still in a daze, fiddled with the radio so he could get his head straight. The ride to his sister’s house was quiet barring the soft jazz. Y/n was very nervous, they never had that conversation that said that they were official and for all she knew she was just a friend that Carmen kissed from time to time. She resisted the urge to ask right now because she was scared to find out that they were nothing more. She would savor the few minutes before she was inevitably introduced as a friend, or worse a co-worker.

They pulled into Natalie’s driveway and got out of the car, y/n grabbed the bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine and they rang the doorbell.

"Why are you holding the tray like that?" Y/n asked, noticing how Carmen clung to it like a shield. Before she could receive a response, Natalie opened the door with a warm greeting, inviting them inside. Y/n handed over the gifts, but Carmen still clung onto his belongings. Just then, Peter descended the stairs, seemingly about to approach Carmen for a hug before his gaze landed on Carmen's protective tray. He hesitated and stepped back, realizing it was acting as a barrier. Y/n stifled a laugh, biting her cheek to prevent herself from laughing at Carmen’s immaturity.

Carmen greeted, “Pete.” Y/n could feel the dislike and she felt bad for Pete because he seemed nice.

“Carmen, it’s good to see you, man.”

“This is my girlfriend, y/n.” A sense of numbness overwhelmed her. It was like when people get run over by a semi and say that they don’t feel anything. Y/n extended her hand to shake Pete's, and she followed him into the living room.

Carmen went into the kitchen to help Natalie and y/n made pleasant conversation with Pete, he seemed a bit soft but she could understand why Natalie might want someone like him. Y/n pretended to be interested when he showed her his Cubs memorabilia, she initially thought the Cubs were a fictional sports team made by the New Girl writers.

Y/n and Pete walked over to the kitchen and asked if they needed any help. Pete looked like he wanted to actually be helpful but y/n had her fingers crossed hoping she didn’t have to do any cooking. It was weird to see Carmen let someone else take the lead while he watched. Even with Sydney, he still watched over everything like a hawk, not because he didn’t trust her, it's just because he wouldn’t let her fail.

Y/n watched as everyone spoke and she wondered where she fit in. Natalie and Carmen were obviously close and Pete was doing his best to get close to Carmen, trying to bridge the obvious gap between them. Y/n had to stop herself from telling Carmen to either be nicer or for Pete to drop it.

Other than being Carmen’s new “girlfriend” and sharing small talk, what else was there for her to talk about? Y/n didn’t know them well but she could tell there was a lot of subtext between the three of them that added weight to their interactions that she wasn’t privy to yet. She was a flame trying to suck in any bubble of oxygen so she could ignite, she needed more information before she could actually join them.

It felt like she was reading Dune for the first time, being dropped in the middle of an already moving plot and she was scrambling to play catch up. Carmen had a lot of triggers and she wondered if Natalie was the same. Even if they acted completely differently, y/n could tell that they were sidestepping something, like they were avoiding talking about a gaping bullet wound, and if siblings were acting like that it means that it's a problem with the parents. Despite the fact that they were in the kitchen, the three of them weren’t talking about the food. Y/n made a mental checklist of a few rules; 1. Don’t bring up parents 2. Don't mention food because it's a trigger 3. Pay attention to Natalie because she was not as good at hiding her feelings as Carmen.

Dinner was served and they all took a seat, y/n took slow sips of wine and saw that Natalie’s wine was slightly darker than hers. Y/n was sitting across Natalie so she recognized the smell too, apple. She was drinking sparkling apple cider. Y/n hid her smirk by talking another sip, she would be a spy or something because she was killing it in the recon department.

Dinner was starting to feel stiff, y/n took a deep breath and turned to Natalie, “Your cooking is to die for.” Natalie tucked in her lips but couldn’t help but hide her smile, y/n never told Carmen anything like that, barring the first day she got to Chicago, it was a petty way of getting back at him for blindsiding her by calling her his girlfriend.

“Thanks, It's a family recipe.” Y/n wanted to stab herself with the fork, she just broke rule one and two. Just as y/n was about to make some asinine comment to change topics, Carmen did it for her.

“Can you pass me the bread, Sugar?” Y/n found her opening.

“Sugar, that’s a nice nickname, what’s the story?”

Natalie paused and y/n had a feeling she fucked up, “We were having this Chrismas family thing and I added a cup of sugar into the gravy instead of salt. The name just stuck.” Y/n definitely fucked up, she was breaking rules left and right. Y/n scrabbled to put herself in the same level as Natalie.

“I’ve been there. My parents were having a few co-worker over for lunch and they brought a box of these expensive mangos and I was told to make some smoothies because it was boiling that day. I filled up the sugar container with salt without noticing and made them smoothies with a ton of salt.” Y/n saw that all eyes were on her and she didn’t allow herself to be nervous because she was trying to get a deeper point across.

Y/n continued, “I have never heard that many people gag all at once.” Their faces broke into a smile.

“What did your mom say?” Bingo, looks like the taboo parent could be narrowed down to their mother.

“She didn’t say anything bad, she and her co-workers just laughed. I mean I was a kid and we all make mistakes. I ended up making lemonade instead.”

Natalie’s eyes lit up,“It’s a shame that all those mangos went to waste.” Natalie joked.

“Waste?” Y/n had a fake offense, “I drank the rest to prove that it wasn’t that bad.”

“Was it that bad?” Pete asked.

“My blood pressure was through the roof. It was the first time I ever got a headache.”

The rest of dinner was a bit more relaxed, y/n was expecting Carmen to talk a bit more because these were his people but it looked like she would have to do the talking for the both of them. They finished up dinner and y/n got up to help them clean up. It was y/n and Carmen alone in the kitchen while Natalie went upstairs to check on something, aka she needed some rest and Pete went to check up on her.

As Carmen washed the dishes, Y/n stood by, towel in hand, drying them. The domestic scene felt comfortable, yet she couldn't determine if she truly enjoyed this newfound domesticity. She wondered if in Carmen’s eyes she was merely playing the role of the perfect partner – someone who could effortlessly navigate his family dynamics, fix his business, and be his own manic pixie dream girl.

A selfish thought crossed Y/n's mind. What was she truly gaining from this relationship? She had been too afraid to make a move with Carmen after the kiss, fearing that one misstep could lead her to being shut out completely. She hesitated to voice her preferences about his food, to ask about the nature of their relationship, or to discuss their future plans if this relationship fell through. Y/n wasn't one to dwell in discomfort, except for her previous job, and she felt frustrated that she had to jump through so many hoops just to ensure that Carmen wouldn't leave.

They finished the dishes and y/n could tell that Carmen wanted to check on Natalie but he didn’t want to leave y/n alone. Y/n being a supportive girlfriend, practically pushed him up the steps before walking out the front door and leaning on the porch. Y/n grabbed her jacket and walked out. She underestimated the frigid Chicago air which felt like a sharp slap to her face, serving as a wake-up call. It reminded her that the warm and fuzzy feeling she had been battling within herself was merely fleeting, and that the reality of the world could be much harsher and more painful.

Y/n couldn’t help but wonder why Carmen was even bothering with her, they had nothing in common but the restaurant. Work was everything for him and Sydney, their shared connection always pulled them together despite both of their volatile personalities. What pulled y/n and Carmen together? They both worked in the restaurant but Carmen didn’t have a passion for running said restaurant, it was a mere obligation that y/n took from him. If she stopped working there, what else did they have in common?

Y/n came to the daunting realization that Carmen picked Sydney because he saw potential in her, a chance to let both him and her grow. However, he didn’t pick y/n because he saw something deeper in her, it was an act of embarrassed desperation.

Was she just a means to help Carmen get his shit together? The restaurant meant a lot to Micheal and after he died Carmen stopped seeing the restaurant as something that was out of his reach but as something to connect him to his brother, a small thread connecting the estranged brothers. Y/n was there to hold up the connection in the vaguest of ways, she kept the restaurant afloat so Carmen could come to terms with Micheals’s legacy, good and bad.

She was lost in thought when she heard the door close, she turned her head to see Carmen was already lighting a cigarette. It was difficult for her to be objective when Carmen locked eyes with her with such intensity. Y/n ripped her eyes from him and faced forward looking at the neighbor's yard, they had nice shrubs.

“I thought you left.” Carmen started as he leaned on the railing with y/n. He looked forward to see what was so interesting that y/n couldn’t look him in the face, it was just some trees.

“I needed some air.”

“You could catch a cold.”

“I don’t get sick, sick is a mindset.” Y/n was obviously joking.

She lowered her head so that she could feel the cold metal on her forehead, maybe a different type of pain would make this conversation easier. Her forehead landed on something warm, the back of Carmen’s hand. She turned her head to its side but remained connected to Carmen’s hand. The warmth radiating on her cheek was making her stomach do backflips. Even if she knew she shouldn’t be indulging like this she couldn’t help it. He felt too good and y/n was getting more and more greedy.

“Hey, Carmen?” Carmen was still staring at y/n. “What do we have in common?” He looked taken aback.

“We like each other…” He was starting to feel the slow slitter of nausea because he knew the other shoe was about to drop.

“If we don’t have much in common, what do we talk about?”

“We can talk about whatever we like. It’s nice to…be with someone who isn't wrapped up in the same things as me.” Carmen expressed a genuine warmth in his voice. Carmen wanted to say that she made him feel like the roof wasn’t going to collapse on him and that the small things weren’t going to destroy him but it felt selfish to describe how much he cared for her based on how she made him feel and not on facts about her.

“I don’t care about fancy food.” Y/n blurted out.

Carmen chuckled, “You know about the vendors, where the supplies are sourced, how much they cost, and a bunch of other stuff. You do care, just in a different way than I do.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“It gives me perspective. It’s very realistic and grounded.” Y/n knew he was calling her realistic and grounded.

“I like hearing you talk about my food.” Carmen offered.

“Even if it’s just “good”?”

“Especially if it's just "good". That means you're telling me the truth.” Carmen recalled a ninth grade world history lesson about the Rosetta Stone, an artifact written in three different languages and made it possible to translate some ancient language. Though he hadn't fully paid attention during the lesson, Carmen now saw the parallel. If Y/n had the courage to express her opinions on his food, it meant she was being honest with him about everything else.

Y/n cracked a smile before covering her mouth and started laughing. It was a jarring sound, Carmen couldn’t pinpoint what the laugh was meant to convey but he knew it wasn’t good.

“What?” Carmen asked, Y/n rubbed her face with her cold hands.

“You said that you were scared of me a while back but now…” Y/n's laughter softened into a smaller chuckle, conveying a mix of amusement and irony.

“I’m scared of you.” The weight was lifted off her shoulders and slammed down on Carmen's. Y/n wondered if this is how the rest of their relationship was going to be; one person transferring their hurt to the other till the weight became too much to bear.

"It's... I want to bring so many things up to you but..." Y/n wondered if this counted as an accusation. "..you’re so flighty. I don't know what to say that won't make you..." Y/n struggled to find a word that didn't feel so definitive, but the only word that felt honest was, "...leave."

The porch fell into an uneasy silence, both of them grappling with the weight of Y/n's vulnerability.

"I...I didn't realize..." Carmen stammered, his voice betraying his inner turmoil. "I would never just... leave." They both stared in silence, they knew that wasn’t true. Y/n lifted her head leaving the warmth behind, she knew this wouldn’t work if he made false promises. And against everything telling her to just accept his promise as law and ignore any doubts, she couldn’t fool herself like that.

“That’s such bullshit.” Y/n lighty giggled. It felt as though a shark had promised to stop swimming—it was ingrained in their nature. In that lighthearted moment, a mischievous thought crossed Y/n's mind: What would happen if Carmen actually stopped running away? Would he cease to exist, like a fish in space?

Her playful musings, though immature, offered a brief respite from the weight of their conversation. It was a temporary escape, a way to diffuse the tension. Y/n noticed that she brought all this shit up to comfort herself but she was giggling to make him feel safe. Even when she knew she shouldn’t, she couldn't help but try to make him feel better.

As the laughter subsided, Y/n met Carmen's eyes, she forced herself to ignore the emotions he was conveying and instead tried to match his eyes with things she had seen in the past. If this ended poorly, she would miss his eyes the most and she wanted to know what else could match in intensity in case she never got to see him like this ever again, nothing came to mind.

Carmen felt like he was backed into a corner, he couldn’t promise her anything without her, justifiably, doubting him.

"I don't want to leave you," Carmen offered, his voice carrying a mixture of sincerity and vulnerability. It was the most honest response he could offer at that moment. He couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't feel the urge to run, to escape when things got tough, but he had a genuine desire to stay.

Y/n's eyes met Carmen's, her expression softened. She knew it wasn't a perfect answer, but it was a step forward. It was enough to know that he acknowledged his own complexities and still chose to be present with her.

They stood in the quiet watching neighbors turn off their living room lights and go upstairs. She wanted to test out whether, “They could talk about whatever they wanted too.”

“What do you think they’re doing?” Y/n asked, Carmen parted his lips and turned his face to look at y/n so see if she was serious, she was.

“I think they go to bed and she has this super long night time routine and he is already asleep by the time she gets to bed. You?” Y/n knew that if they ever slept over at each other’s place, that’s exactly what would happen between them.

“She probably got home from a shit day and she starts reading an easy romance book…Do you read any books?”

“They are mostly cooking stuff.” He took a drag from his cigarette.

“You read cookbooks for entertainment?”

“Sometimes, it's a part of the craft.” Carmen realized how fucking pretentious he sounded and was a bit ashamed but seeing y/n refrain from teasing him by bitting her lips made him not want to crawl into a hole and die of shame, her smile was addicting. “…but there is a lot of history and science too. '' Carmen knew he sucked at conversation but he would do anything to keep talking.

“What was your last book?”

Y/n and Carmen kept talking till they lost track of time and eventually when they had reached a comfortable lull, y/n could confidently say that they were in fact capable of holding a conversation about mundane shit.

Against every fiber of her being telling her to end their conversation like this, she couldn’t help but ask, “What happens…if this ends?” Y/n didn’t know if she was supposed to use “if” or “when”; one was cautious, the other was a prophecy.

Carmen didn’t look back at her, instead giving her, “You’ll still have a job…I’m not a dick…all the time.” Y/n lips curved upwards.

“Will you be able to work with someone you’ve been in a relationship with?”

“Yes.” Carmen wondered if the answer could ever be anything other than yes.

Y/n knew that if this ended badly she would be allowed to stick around so that Carmen would have an excuse to throw himself at his work. She would be the catalyst to merge him from an individual to a vague reflection of Micheal’s legacy.

Whether or not Carmen knew it, Micheal was a huge influence in his life and just like Micheal began to isolate himself towards the end, Carmen would do the same if they drifted apart. It was his inherent weakness and a relationship gone sour that would make it difficult for him to break the cycle that Micheal had started.

“I won’t stay if it hurts you, Carmen.”

“I would want you to stay, y/n.”

“There is no trophy that comes with going through unnecessary shit.”

“I know, I would still need you.” Carmen hesitated but eventually placed his hand top on y/n's.

“Because I can do the books?” Y/n rolled her eyes jokingly.

“No…you do more than that. You are…” Carmen read books with a shit ton of adjectives, they had to be descriptive to describe food through text. Despite that, he was at a loss for words to describe her.

"You are..." he began again, this time his voice was a little gentler than before. He took a deep breath, hoping that he could find those words that would express everything he felt.

"You are very important to me,". His voice was soft like he was realizing this for the first time.

The second time was meant for y/n, "You are very important to me." I love you, y/n.

Y/n locked eyes with Carmen for a moment.

"You are important to me too." I love you, Carmen.

Neither of them had the courage to say that to each other, wondering if they were the only one’s feeling like this.

They both had jackets on but y/n’s hands were freezing and she could feel Carmen’s hand was also ice cold. She knew that they had both reached their limits but y/n couldn’t help but relish in the cold for a bit longer.

For y/n, the biting cold was always a catalyst for clarity, stripping away the unnecessary and forcing y/n to distill her focus onto the few things that mattered. Amidst the frost, she found solace in the simplicity. It was within this chilling environment that she discovered a clear chance to confront her inner turmoil head-on and confront the world.

Carmen had always been drawn to the intense heat. It was as if the scorching temperatures matched the fire that burned within him, igniting his passion and driving him forward but leaving him with nothing to look back on. Extreme heat was his poison of choice, his way of confronting the world.

Carmen’s heat was turning her mind into a messy slurry of slush. Y/n had to force herself to focus despite the fact that Carmen’s hand was providing her with a sliver of intoxicating warmth.

“You didn’t ask me to be your girlfriend.” Carmen’s head shot up aback by y/n's words. He was excited to introduce her to his family, and he hadn't thought to ask her permission first. He tried to explain himself, his words coming out in a rush.

"I didn't mean to assume anything. I just thought that since we've been seeing each other for a while now, it was... " He took a moment to catch his breath, trying to gather his thoughts.

“I think you should try asking first.” Carmen stared at y/n not knowing if this was a trap to get rejected twice. He opted for silence.

“Carmen, ask me if I want to be your girlfriend?” Carmen didn't want to say the wrong thing, not when it was so important, for someone so important. Carmen trusted y/n so he stubbed his cigarette on the ashtray before taking a deep breath and asking, “Will you be my girlfriend, y/n.”

Y/n wrapped her freezing hands around his neck accidentally grazing her finger on his neck making him shiver. She leaned in against his lip and even though they had kissed before this, Carmen felt like he couldn’t think. Y/n lips barely touching Carmen’s before whispering a soft, “Yes, Carmy.”

Carmen closed the small gap between their lips. And y/n felt a gentle heat seep through the folds of her head making it difficult to focus on her freezing fingers, or her numb toes, or her goosebump riddled legs, or her shivering arms. Y/n felt Carmen pull her closer and even though they were as close as physically possible, it wasn’t enough. Carmen’s lips left y/n’s before trailing down the column of her neck, y/n could feel the blossoming of heat radiate from his lips. Y/n’s hands sank down to Carmen’s waist and slowly drifted up his shirt. The cold sent shivers down his spine as y/n’s hands moved at a glacial pace.

Just as Carmen reached the collar of her jacket he looked up at her and y/n had to resist every irrational and reckless part of her that told her to continue. The realization that they were on Carmen’s sister’s porch made y/n look around to ground herself. She landed on a black box right near the door before looking back to Carmen with her mouth agape and her eyes wide open.

“What?” Carmen questioned with furrowed eyebrows.

“We are on your sister's porch.” Y/n said with a thousand yard stare and a distant mutter.

“I’m not a fucking animal, obviously we aren’t going to do this here.” Y/n softly grasped Carmen’s face before turning towards the black box, a doorbell camera.

“Jesus…fuck.” They both looked at each other before y/n scrambled inside with Carmen right behind her. Either they were caught and they had to face Natalie despite the embarrassment or they got to the footage before Natalie saw it.

Y/n let Carmen lead her to Natalie’s room, who thankfully was still laying on her side, Pete had gone to the restroom.

Y/n leaned up to Carmen before whispering, “Distract her.” Carmen sat near Natalie and asked her if she wanted some ginger-ale or if he should stop by a pharmacy.

Natalie's phone was on the nightstand and y/n swiped it when Natalie wasn’t looking before unlocking her phone with the password she acquired from being noisy. She then deleted the footage of the last hour from her Ring app. Y/n wanted to scroll back a few months to watch Carmen call her for the first time but she didn’t have enough time.

Y/n set the phone exactly how she found it and gave Carmen a subtle thumbs up.

“I’m fine, I think I need to sleep this off.” Natalie sat up while glancing at y/n and y/n had to resist freezing like a criminal caught in the spotlight.

“I’m really sorry-” Natalie started.

“Please don’t be. I had a great time. Is there anything we can do for you before we leave?” Y/n felt bad for taking advantage of Natalie’s pregnancy induced sickness but this was a matter of prestige, she wouldn’t be able to set foot in this house if Natalie ever saw the footage.

Natalie shook her head no and they said their goodbye’s before Camren and y/n practically tripped over themselves running out of that house. They sprinted to the car and slammed the doors shut before bursting out laughing. Y/n felt like she was a teenager again, sneaking her boyfriend out the fire escape before her mom walked in. Carmen pushed his forehead into the steering wheel to laugh and the sound that echoed felt like it was melting itself into y/n’s brain, forever branded into her memory.

“How many times have you been here, Carmen? You never noticed the fucking camera, you dick?” Y/n struggled to shake off the heat that pulsed up her body, Camren hadn’t even started the car yet and she was burning up.

“I…I never looked, what kind of freak looks?”Carmen said in between laughs. Y/n gave him a fake look of disapproval.

“Turn the car on, Berzatto, you’re getting on my fucking nerves.”

Carmen turned on his car before pulling out of Natalie’s driveway, he was still snickering and in the streetlight y/n could see his neck turn bright red.

“Stop by a CVS or something.” Y/n said while fiddling with the radio.

“You think you caught something from Nat.” Y/n resisted telling him that pregnancy wasn’t contagious, men are so fucking stupid.

“You have condoms on you?” Carmen slammed on the break, lucky they were at a red light.

“N...no.” Scarlet crawled up his neck and up his face. Y/n didn’t know someone’s ears could ever get that red before. Carmen stayed still trying to collect his fractured thoughts.

“It's green, Carmen.”

He stepped on the gas and y/n was glad that the roads were practically empty because he was driving like he had all the insurance in the world. He pulled over to a Walgreens and ran out of the car. Y/n shook her head at his shit parking, he was in between two spots. Carmen came back in a minute with a plastic bag, y/n could decipher from the shapes that he had also bought some gatorades too.

Carmen pulled out of the parking lot.

Y/n didn’t recognize the streets on their ride back, “Your place?”

“Mine is closer.” Carmen replied, his voice tinged with a mix of anticipation.

Y/n could help but giggle, she always loved it when he was desperate. She knew it was wrong, but she always felt such a rush of excitement when her control over him was at its pinnacle and they both knew it.

When they reached a stop sign, y/n glanced over at Camren and saw that he was already looking back at her.

They couldn’t seem to care that they were wading in uncharted waters and they couldn’t convince themselves that this was going to end badly enough for them to not at least try. If they looked at each other like that, there was no way they were going to let each other go.

End Notes:

Fire + Ice = Vapor; It took me an embarrassing amount of time to think of that.

There is a lot of tension and maturity that needs to be written in smut for it to be good and I just can’t do that. I tried for this one and I had to close my laptop and take a lap because the second hand embarrassment was too much. So those drafts have been deleted and I’m glad I never have to see them again.

I didn't think people would like Turbulence, I was going to delete it after a few hours and just keep it to myself but i'm glad that people liked it so ig it's here to stay. I tried to keep this one more contained then Turbulence bc writing about multiple days is such a pain.

I really don’t know what else I might write about for these two, or in general, so if you have any suggestions feel free to send them to me. If your suggestion inspires me, you better believe that I'm going to get out of bed at 2 in the morning and start writing. Or we can bury these two in a shallow grave and forget they exist, which is also fine by me because I think fic aged me.

941 notes · View notes

sebastianstanisahotmf · 6 months

Text

Forbidden fruit

Steve Rogers x Fem!reader

A/N Hey guys I'm re-posting all my fics. Also all mistakes are my own and comments, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated xoxo

18+ MINORS FUCK OFF YOU'RE NOT OLD ENOUGH (I WARNED YOU)

Summary Your dad's best friend, Steve pays you a visit. (idk how to summarise this)

DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER APPS/SITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.

Warnings fluff, Unprotected sex (use protection because you're not fictional), daddy kink, squirting, spitting, the word slut used like once or twice and one slap.

You weren’t expecting anyone today. Between your dad being at work and the lack of plans on your part you didn’t expect the loud knocks on the door at 4 o’clock in the afternoon. You cautiously tiptoed over to the door and looked through the peephole. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding when you saw it was Steve. You opened the door with a smile and tried not to stare at the man in front of you. After all he was your dad’s best friend.

“Hey darlin’ is your dad in?” Steve questioned while looking you up and down.

You were wearing some sweatpants and a t-shirt that belonged to your dad. You were home all day so you didn’t bother to put nicer clothes on.

“N-no” you stuttered trying not to focus on the wetness that is now soaking through your panties.

“He told me he wasn’t at work today” Steve said while walking into the kitchen to help himself to a beer.

“He said something about an emergency. I’m not sure though I wasn’t listening properly” you replied.

“I thought you were a good girl” Steve replied with a smirk.

You could feel your cheeks heating up with the praise.

“I-I was in the shower when he told me”

I wish I was there Steve thought as he looked at you hungrily.

“Actually I was here to see you princess” Steve said while watching your face closely.

“me?” you questioned.

“yes. I wanted to know if you meant to send me the photos of your pretty tits and the video of you playing with your pretty pussy.”

Oh my fucking god y/n you thought to yourself. “o-oh I-I’m really sorry Steve t-they weren’t meant to be sent to you.”

“who were they meant for then? Because they better not have been for a boy who doesn’t know how to treat a girl like you right.” Steve said bitterly. “Have you had sex with him before?” you nodded slowly watching Steve’s face for his reaction. “how many times has he made you cum?”

“well...” you replied looking at the floor.

“You’re joking. He had a pretty thing like you at his fingertips and he didn’t make you cum once. I think we should make another video to show your friend so he knows how to treat a girl like you.”

“I-I don’t think we should do this,” you replied.

“He’ll be home in about 45 minutes. That’s more than enough time to get those sexy legs of yours quivering and you screaming my name like a prayer.”

All you could do was whimper in response as Steve stepped closer to you. He brought his hand up to your face and brushed his thumb over your lips. You opened your mouth, and Steve pressed his thumb onto your tongue. You closed your lips around his thumb and sucked, which elicited a deep moan from Steve. He removed his thumb from your mouth and softly grasped your chin to make you look at him.

“Before we do anything, I want to set some rules,” he said sternly.

“O-okay,” you whimpered.

“Firstly, I need to know if you know what the traffic light system is.”

“I, umm, I know what it is.”

“Good girl. I want you to use it at any time, especially if you don’t like something that I’m doing or if you just want to slow down. I don’t care about anything but your well-being. Do you understand?” he questioned in a serious tone.

“Okay,” you replied while crossing your legs.

“Secondly, I’m going to have my way with you, but if you disobey me, I will have to spank you. And most importantly, you are to call me daddy and only daddy. Am I clear?”

“Y-yes, daddy,” you almost whispered.

“Good girl,” he growled.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you flush against his chest.

“No bra?” he questioned.

You shook your head. You put your left hand on his chest and your right one on his cheek. He leaned down, and you reached up to meet his lips. It started off tame until Steve licked across your lips. You instantly opened your mouth and welcomed his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues fought for dominance, a fight that would always be won by Steve.

He moved his hands to your ass and told you to jump.

You pulled back. “Are you sure?” you questioned.

Steve looked at you like you were crazy. “Did I stutter? I said jump. So you’re gonna jump, and I’m gonna carry you to your bedroom, and then I’m gonna fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before. Better than any guy your age can.”

You decided that Steve didn’t care and jumped. He caught you and wrapped your legs around his waist. You started to kiss him again as he made his way upstairs with you. Luckily you had left your bedroom door open do all he had to do was kick it so you both could fit through the doorway. He dropped you on your bed and then started to strip his clothes off. However, you were visibly disappointed when he didn’t take his tight boxers off. You could see his bulge and it looked too big to be real.

“see something you like?” he said with a smirk on his face. Then, he looked you in the eyes and said “strip. I want everything off.”

“ok daddy” you replied whilst taking your clothes off with shaky hands.

Once you got your panties off, Steve took them out of your hand and put them on top of his pile of clothes.

“they’re mine now”

All you could do was whimper in response.

“lay back” he ordered.

You did as he said and then he laid down on his front between your legs. He grabbed your thighs and wrapped them around his head.

He looked up at you and said, “I want you to suffocate me with your pussy. I mean it, if I die then I’ll die a happy man. Also, I want both hands in my hair. They move, I stop. Do you understand?”

“y-yes daddy,” you replied a shiver running down your spine.

You buried your hands into Steve’s soft strands of hair and pulled which made him groan.

He leaned forward and you tightened your legs. He smiled to himself before he dived in. He started with long languid licks from your hole to your clit. Making sure to leave nowhere untouched by his tongue. He licked into your pussy while his thumb swiped over your bundle of nerves.

You pulled hard on his hair making him groan once again. He shook his head so he could get deeper and decided to change his tactics.

He rubbed two fingers up and down your wetness, pushed them inside and curled them. The moan you let out made Steve grind his hardness into the mattress. He started to suck on your clit and you pulled as hard as you could on his hair.

“OH FUCK DADDY.” You screamed. “I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum.” You chanted.

Steve carried on what he was doing. Well he had no choice. Your legs were so tight around his head now that he couldn’t move. He couldn’t be in a better position if he tried. It was like being in heaven.

You let out an earth shattering squeal as you came. Steve carried on as your legs quivered and your hands tried to push his head away. The overstimulation feeling like too much. Steve added another finger and curled them hard against your g-spot. He got into a rhythm of harshly thrusting his fingers in and out of you while he sucked as hard as he could on your clit.

Then, a weird pressure started to build. One that you had never felt before. It felt like you needed to pee.

“daddy it feels weird. Daddy I’m gonna cum gonna cum again.” You shouted.

He carried on with his movements and then suddenly he pulled his fingers out of you. He continued you roughly rub two fingers across your clit even as you writhed and your legs shook. He put an arm across your waist as he continued his ministrations.

Then suddenly you came. Your release squirted out of you while Steve continued to rub your swollen and almost painful bundle of nerves.

“DADDY!” You squealed and then you shouted, “YELLOW.” The feeling was pleasurable but it felt too much. You just needed everything to slow down.

Steve removed his hand and put his other one on your cheek as his thumb stroked the skin under your eye.

“Are you ok baby? Do you want to slow down or stop?” he asked in a soft voice.

“I just want to slow down. It just got a little too much. I can go again now. I-it’s just that I needed a break.” You breathlessly replied.

“Ok baby but if its too much just tell me. I won’t be mad.”

“ok daddy.”

Steve leaned down and whispered “good girl” into your ear making goose bumps form all over your body.

“Daddyyyyy.” You whined. “I need you”

“what do you need baby?” he said while smiling softly at you.

“I need you inside me. Please please daddy!”

“Good girl. Such. A. Good. Girl.” Steve punctuated each word with a kiss.

He started to kiss from your lips to your neck where he started to kiss and bite you leaving a trail of marks. You tangled your hands into his hair, pulling on the strands.

Steve groaned as he grinded his erection into your leg. He kissed down to your breasts where he sucked your left nipple into his mouth. He bit down on it which made you groan. He then switched his attention to the other nipple.

Once he felt like your nipples had had enough attention, he started to kiss his way back up to your lips.

He sat back on his legs and started to remove his boxers. As he pulled them down his legs, his large cock sprung up and laid flat against his stomach. The red tip was leaking a steady stream of precum.

You sat up and reached out for Steve’s cock and grasped it. You started to pump his cock up and down occasionally twisting your hand as you reached the sensitive head whilst using his precum as lube. He let out a loud groan.

You got closer so that you could lean down and take his member into your mouth. You sucked harder as you got to the tip. Once you had a steady rhythm, Steve put a hand on either side of you head and started to fuck your mouth.

“If you need me to stop just tap on my thigh twice” He gritted out.

He held your head down so that your nose was buried in the hairs at the base of his cock. Then he pulled back and carried on thrusting into your mouth. As he got close to cumming, he pulled out and picked you up.

Steve laid you down on your back and then kneeled between your open legs. He shuffled closer and grabbed his cock. He started to run the tip up and down your folds.

“Daddy please. Fuck me please daddy please!” you pleaded desperately.

“ok, ok, baby” he said looking at you with lust blown eyes.

He grabbed his member and pushed it inside you. You moaned and you arched your back as he slowly entered you. Steve stilled for a few seconds to let you get used to his size.

“Steve please!” you begged, desperate for Steve to pound you into the mattress.

“what did you call me?” Steve snarled and slapped you around your face.

You moaned and clenched around him making him hiss.

“sorry daddy sorry I just want you to fuck me. PLEASE!” you pleaded.

“you want me to fuck you really hard do you?” Steve said as you nodded your head. He chuckled and then put his hand around your neck squeezing gently. “ok then I’ll fuck you but don’t expect me to stop you slut.”

Steve started to pound into you. His hips slapping against yours while his balls slap against your ass. His thrusts were quick and sharp not allowing you any time to move away.

Steve grabbed your legs and put them over his shoulders. He leant down and you were practically folded in half. What he did next surprised you. Steve used his spare hand to hold down your jaw while he spat into your mouth. He removed his hand and you automatically swallowed and opened your mouth again.

“Such a fucking slut wanting my spit. Dirty girl.” Steve said while spitting into your mouth again.

You swallowed. Then, Steve snaked the hand that he used to open your jaw down to your clit and started to rub it quickly. Your legs started to shake and your back arched off the bed.

“Are you gonna cum my dumb slut?” you nodded. “Tell daddy. Tell him you’re a dumb cumslut” Steve started to thrust faster which you didn’t know was possible.

“I-I’m a-a cumslut. D-daddy’s cums-slut. I’m gonna cum daddy. I’m gonna cum.” You sobbed while your legs shook and the feeling at the bottom of your stomach grew.

“that’s it good girl” Steve groaned. “good girl, such a good girl for daddy.”

That’s when the band inside you snapped and you came for the final time. Your last released squired out of you and drenched Steve’s cock and thighs.

“good girl. Such a good cumslut.”steve moaned his thrusts losing their rhythm. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, gonna cum”

“daddy cum inside me please daddy please. Want your cum inside me. Please!”

That was it for Steve. He was a goner. His hips stilled as his spend pumped inside you.

You both stayed like that for a while until Steve suddenly got up. You whined at the loss of contact but your attention was now on Steve picking up your phone.

“Open it please baby. I want to send a video of my spunk dripping out of you to that little shit who thinks he deserved you”

You whimpered at his possessive tone and took your phone out of his hand to put the password in. Steve then clicked on the camera and took a video of your still pulsing hole which had his spend leaking out of it.

Steve stopped the video and sent it to your friend. Then he laid on top of you with his head on your breasts while you ran your fingers through his hair.

You both stayed like that for a while until your phone rang. Steve rolled over beside you with a groan and you picked up your phone.

“shit, it’s my dad.” You said as you answered the call. “Hey dad what’s up?”

“Nothing sweetheart I’m just calling to say I’m gonna be home 30 minutes late today.”

“o-ok I’ll see you later. Bye dad, love you”

“bye love you too.”

You put the phone down and looked at Steve with a smile on your face. “we have an extra 30 minutes”

“good. Now I can take care of you the way you deserve.” Steve picked you up and took you to the bathroom down the hallway.

He sat you on the toilet so you could pee while he went back into the bedroom to take the sheets off your bed. After you were finished in the bathroom, you called Steve back in. He picked you up again and placed you on the counter.

“where are the towels?” Steve asked.

“in the cupboard under this counter.” You said, smiling softly at Steve.

“ok then darlin’. You get the shower going and I’ll get a change of clothes and towels ready before I join you.” He smiled and then slapped your ass when you walked over to the shower.

You yelped in response but carried on with the task you had been given. Once the shower was to your preferred temperature, you got under the spray and got your hair wet.

Just as you were about to reach for your body wash Steve had entered the shower and came up behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your hair. You turned around in his arms and leaned up to kiss him.

Then you reached out for your dad’s shower gel and squirted some of it on a loofah. Then, you thoroughly cleaned Steve’s body and then his hair. Once you had finished, Steve decided to return the favour.

These simple acts felt intimate but you knew you couldn’t have a relationship with Steve. It was like he was forbidden fruit since he was your dad’s best friend. How would your dad react to that?

After Steve had finished cleaning your body and hair, you both got out of the shower. Steve decided had that you didn’t need to walk yet.

He put you down once you reached the bedroom and then you both started to get dressed which gave you an opportunity to look Steve over and appreciate his chiselled body.

“you’re staring baby” Steve said while laughing.

Your cheeks started to heat up again but that was short lived since Steve dragged you back into bed so you could cuddle. Your head was on Steve’s chest while his arm was around you and your leg was thrown over his waist.

Your peaceful moment was torn apart by the sound of a key in the front door. You and Steve jumped out of bed and started to panic

“hey its OK, I’ll quickly go downstairs and tell your dad that you was getting changed. Ok?”

“ok I’ll wait a few minutes before coming down stairs then” you agreed.

“good girl” Steve whispered in your ear before kissing you on the lips and then on your forehead.

He ran downstairs and into the kitchen to pick up his beer and talk to your dad. All this happened while you were still thinking about what you and Steve had just done and how it would change your relationship.

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